W\t 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


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™"S, 


Purchased  by  the  Hammill  Missionary  Fund. 


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CHOSON 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM 


Choson 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM 


A SKETCH  OF  KOREA 


BY 

PERCIVAL  LOWELL 


LATE  FOREIGN  SECRETARY  AND  COUNSELLOR  TO  THE  KOREAN  SPECIAL  MISSION  TO  THE 
UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 
MF-MBER  OF  THE  ASIATIC  SOCIETY  OF  JAPAN 


ILLUSTRATED 

FROM  PHOTOGRAPHS  BY  THE  AUTHOR 


BOSTON 

TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY 
211  ^’rcmont  Street 
1888 


/ 


Copyright,  1885, 

By  Percival  Lowell. 

All  rights  reserved. 


THIRD  EDITION. 


TTntvfrsitv  Press: 

John  Wilson  and  Son,  Camdridge. 


PREFACE 


NE  evening  in  August,  1883,  I found  myself  ai’riving  in  Tokio, 


after  a journey  into  the  interior  of  Japan.  The  thousand  lights 
and  lanterns  of  the  great  city,  as  I sped  through  its  miles  of  streets 
in  a jinrikisha,  never  seemed  so  brilliant  nor  so  welcoming  before.  I 
felt  I had  reached  home.  Of  leaving  it,  of  sailing  for  America,  I had 
at  that  moment  about  as  much  idea  as  you  have,  good  reader,  of  set- 
ting out  to-morrow  for  Kamchatka.  Coming  events  cast  no  shadows 
before  them;  for  all  was  one  vast  shadow,  — night.  Four  days  from 
that  time  I was  on  the  broad  Pacific  with  the  Korean  Special  INIission 
to  the  United  States,  and  a little  more  than  two  weeks  later  I entered 
my  native  land  as  a foreigner. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  October  that  we  set  sail  again  from  San  Fran- 
cisco for  Yokohama.  A long  passage  across  the  Pacific  and  unavoidable 
delays  in  Japan  made  it  the  middle  of  December  before  we  at  last 
reached  Korea.  There,  in  its  capital.  Soul,  as  the  guest  of  his  Majesty, 
I spent  the  winter. 

Now  that  you  and  I,  indulgent  reader,  have  journeyed  so  many  thou- 
sand miles  in  company,  we  should  surely  have  learned  to  know  each 
other ; for  nothing,  we  both  admit,  so  reveals  character  as  travel,  — 
except  marriage. 

I would  add  two  notes.  In  the  first  ]dace,  I wish  to  put  in  a plea 
for  the  right  pronunciation  of  Korean  words.  In  the  transliteration  of 
the  Korean  alphabet  I have  followed  the  scheme  suggested  by  Messrs. 
Aston,  Satow,  and  Chamberlain,  the  pioneers  of  the  subject.  The  sim- 
])le  vowels  a,  i,  o,  and  u are  to  be  pi’onounced  as  in  Italian.  0,  an 
exceedingly  interesting  Korean  vowel,  has  a sound  which  varies  from  the 
French  e mute,  through  short  m,  to  a degenerated  o.  Tlie  best  sound, 


VI 


PREFACE. 


on  the  whole,  to  represent  it  is  the  German  o (e  umlaut).  What  have 
been  written  e,  e,  and  e were  originally  Korean  diphthongs,  and  are 
still  so  written,  at,  and  oi ; but  they  are  now  pronounced  as  single 
vowel  sounds,  akin  to  the  sounds  the  letters  represent  in  French.  The 
transliterated  consonants  are  to  be  pronounced  for  the  most  part  as  in 
English,  — the  principal  exceidions  being  r,  which  is  a general,  not  a 
special  liquid  (that  is,  it  suggests  either  an  r,  an  /,  or  an  w,  according 
to  position) ; an  intercalated  /i,  which  has  the  effect  of  increasing  the 
aspiration  of  the  preceding  letter,  — as,  for  instance.  Whang , Chhung  ; 
and  lastly,  a reduplication  of  certain  letters,  which  simply  increases  the 
intensity  of  their  pronunciation.  Other  foreign  words  have  been  spelled 
according  to  the  consensus  of  scholars  on  the  subject ; for  this  I’eason 
Ko)'ea  has  replaced  Corea,  and  in  Manchuria  all  the  vowels  have  the 
Italian  sound. 

Secondly,  I would  send  with  this  a note  of  thanks.  The  thanks 
would  have  taken  the  form  of  a dedication  had  the  names  not  seemed 
too  many  to  share  one  book.  To  William  Sturgis  Bigelow,  Gustavus 
Goward,  Basil  Hall  Chamberlain,  Ernest  F.  Fenollosa,  and  Edward  S. 
Morse,  1 am  indebted  for  kindness  and  help  thanks  cannot  express  : I 
Avould  offer  them  instead  this  sketch.  To  Miyaoka  Tsunejiro,  Yu  Kil 
Chun,  Cheu  Kybng  Sok,  Ni  Si  Ryom,  Kim  Nak  Chip,  Min  Yi  ng  Ik,  and 
So  Kwang  Ppm,  I am  under  the  greatest  obligations.  I Avould  also 
thank  most  Avarmly  Hon.  Lucius  H.  Foote,  C.  L.  Scudder,  Esq.,  Herr 
P.  G.  von  Mollendorff,  T.  Koyabashi,  Esq.,  and  Y.  S.  Yoshida,  Esq.,  for 
the  many  happy  days  they  gave  me  in  both  tliought  and  feeling,  the 
remembrance  of  which  has  lately,  unhappily,  been  saddened  by  tlie  death 
of  Mrs.  Foote  ; wlnle  to  Hong  Yong  Sik,  the  loyal  friend,  the  true 
patriot,  and  at  last  the  political  martyr,  I can  now  only  ascribe  a 
memory.  To  the  Forbes  Albertype  Company  I desire  to  exj)ress  my 
thanks  for  the  manner  in  which  they  have  reproduced  from  my  nega- 
tives the  accompanying  pictures.  Finally,  I would  thank  Mr.  Stevens, 
of  the  University  Press,  for  his  many  able  suggestions. 


Boston,  November,  1885. 


CONTENTS 


CDAPTEB  PAGE 

I.  Where  the  Day  BEGl^’^s 1 

II.  The  Geography  of  the  Peninsula 11 

III.  The  Climate 22 

IV.  The  Coast 33 

V.  Chemulpo 44 

VI.  The  Journey  up  to  Soul 54 

VII.  The  Journey  up  to  Soul.  — The  Second  Day  ....  G8 

VIII.  The  Entry  into  Soul 78 

IX.  A Walled  City 8G 

X.  The  Watch-Fires  on  the  South  ^Mountain 93 

XI.  The  Government 100 

XII.  The  Triad  of  Principles 107 

XIII.  The  Quality  of  Impersonality 120 

XIV.  The  Patriarchal  System 131 

XV.  The  Position  of  Woman 143 

XVI.  Presentation  at  Court 153 

XVII.  A Day  at  Home 1C2 

XVIII.  The  House  of  the  Sleeping  Waves 170 

XIX.  The  Want  of  a Religion 181 

XX.  The  Demon  Worship 193 


CONTENTS. 


viii 

CHAPTER  page 

XXI.  Soul  by  Day 213 

XXII.  Soul  by  Night 226 

XXIII.  A Kore.^n  Banquet 238 

XXIV.  My  Friend  the  Mathematician 250 

XXV.  Architecture  :2G2 

XXVI.  Landscape  Gardening '280 

XXVII.  The  Palaces "289 

XXVIII.  A Chapter  of  Horrors . . . . 299 

XXIX.  The  Valley  of  Clothes B07 

XXX.  Costume 316 

XXXI.  On  Hats 332 

XXXII.  An  Out-of-the-Way  Corner  in  Language 348 

XXXIII.  The  Flower-Stream  Temple 356 

XXXIV.  Winter  Bevels  in  a Monastery 367 

XXXV.  Time 376 

XXXVI.  A Predicament 386 

XXXVII.  The  Beacons  of  Pusan 394 


Appendix 


401 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATlOiSS. 


FULL-PAGE  PLATES. 

PAGE 

“The  Fkageaxt  Iris” Frontispiece 

His  Majesty  the  King  of  Korea 50 

River  Suburrs  of  Sogl 74 

The  Foreigx  Office 116 

Ax  Ol'tlyix^g  Braxcii  of  the  City’s  Wall  crossixg  a Stream  . 172 

The  Pillars  of  the  Palace  of  Summer 270 

WOODCUTS,  ETC. 

Family  Table 139 

The  Chixese  Gexeral  axd  the  Ux'fortuxate  Imp 190 

A Tea-Fight  of  Gxomes 206 

A Hasty  Sketch  draivx  ■with  a 1’excil,  ix  course  of  Coxversa- 

Tiox,  BY'  A Koreax  yvho  avas  Not  AX  Artist 245 

A Koreax  Sock 328 

A Koreax  Shoe 328 

A Kore.yx  Boot 330 

The  Ordixary  Every-day  Hat 336 

The  Skull-Cap,  yvith  the  Mitre-ILvt  over  it 337 

A Court  Hat 339 

A Mitre-Hat,  the  Cue  seex  uxderxeath 340 

The  “ Chef-de-Cuisixe  ” Hat,  xot,  however,  a Culixary  Badge  . 340 

A Large  Hat 342  Jiote 

The  Hybrid 340 

Vaxg 381  note 

Yaxg  and  Yoxg 381  note 


Map  of  Korea 


13 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  I. 


WHERE  THE  DAA^  BEGINS. 


T is  fortunate  that  the  one  hundred  and  eightieth  meridian 


JL  falls  where  it  does.  From  Siberia  to  the  Antarctic  Con- 
tinent this  imaginary  line  traverses  nothing  but  water.  The 
Old}'  land  which  it  passes  at  all  near  is  one  of  the  archipela- 
goes of  the  South  Pacific ; and  there  it  divides  but  a handful 
of  volcanoes  and  coral  reefs  from  the  main  group.  These 
islands  are  even  more  unimportant  to  the  world  than  insig- 
nificant in  size.  Those  avIio  tenant  them  are  few,  and  those 
who  are  bound  to  these  few  still  fewer. 

The  line  is  not  only  imaginary  ; it  has  not  even  an  astro- 
nomical reason  for  its  existence,  like  the  equator.  It  is  purely 
and  entirely  an  arbitrary  convention ; and  }’et  its  position  is 
of  exceeding  importance  to  mankind.  From  the  very  conven- 
ience of  this  position  we  are  apt  to  forget  its  value  ; for  the 
line  is  the  great  day-origin.  It  sets,  not  the  time  of  day  merely, 
but  the  day  itself.  At  the  line  two  days  meet.  There,  though 
time  flows  ceaselessly  on,  occurs  that  unnatural  yet  unavoid- 
able jump  of  twenty-four  hours ; and  no  one  is  there  to  be 
startled  by  the  fact,  — no  one  to  be  perplexed  in  trying  to 
reconcile  the  two  incongruities,  continuous  time  and  discon- 
tinuous day.  There  is  nothing  but  the  ocean ; and  that  is 
tenantless. 


i 


9 


THE  LxiND  OF  THE  MORXIXG  CALM. 


Had  it  been  otherwise,  — had  the  line  crossed  some  continent 
Avliere  man  dwelt,  — there  might  have  been  two  great  towns, 
ten  miles  apart,  with  different  days  }mt  the  same  hour.  “Noth- 
ing new  under  the  snn  ! ” Why,  two  days  wonld  be  born  Avith 
every  sunrise.  And  persons  induced  to  do  so,  from  financial  or 
other  causes,  conld  go  skipping  across  the  line,  doubling  certain 
days  of  their  weeks  while  they  forever  obliterated  others. 

Noav,  as  Ave  pass  this  meridian  AvestAvard,  Ave  simply  drop 
a day  into  the  deep ; and  but  fcAv  of  ns  pause  to  consider  that 
Ave  liaA'e  in  reality  buried  a cause  of  strife,  — an  immaterial 
something  Avliich,  had  it  not  been  for  the  uninhabited  ocean, 
Avonld  have  throAvn  the  Avorld  into  inextricable  confusion.  The 
point  at  issue  is  nothing  less  than  the  agreement  upon  a com- 
mon day  for  the  Avhole  Avorld. 

The  form  of  the  earth  and  her  rotation  giAm  man  a certain 
natural  measure  of  time.  As  she  turns  upon  herself,  the  sun- 
light and  the  shade  mark  out  for  him  a division  he  calls  a day ; 
and  for  any  one  place  the  darkness  seAyrs  one  day  from  the 
next,  but  for  the  earth  as  a Avhole  the  day  sAveeps  endlessly 
round.  There  is  no  line  to  determine  Avhere  this  unending 
light  shall  cease  to  be  the  old  day  and  become  the  ucav  : the 
symmetry  of  the  globe  renders  such  a thing  impossible.  Man 
must  place  it  for  himself. 

Noav,  so  long  as  civilized  nations  — or  at  least  all  such  as 
kneAv  or  cared  about  one  another — liA'ed  close  together,  it  mat- 
tered little  Avhether  they  all  agreed  upon  the  same  origin  or 
not : and  it  mattered  less  Avhere  they  placed  it,  provided  onl}^ 
it  Avas  far  enough  aAvay  from  all.  But  Avhen  they  came  to  care 
about  the  antipodes,  the  case  changed.  Whether  they  had  each 
made  for  themselves  their  oavu  day,  or  had  consented  to  Avorship 
at  the  common  shrine  of  a convention,  the  problem  Avonld  liaA’e 
been  equally  embarrassing.  Indeed,  had  the  Avorld  reached  that 
stage  of  scientific  and  practical  development  in  Avhich  the 


WHERE  THE  DAY  BEGINS. 


3 


knowledge  of  its  surface  in  its  entirety  became  necessary,  before 
man’s  migrations  had  carried  him  to  what  we  now  call  Europe, 
no  little  annoyance  might  have  resulted  from  his  jDosition ; for, 
with  himself  as  centre,  the  beginning  of  his  day  would  lie  at 
the  one  hundred  and  eightieth  meridian,  because  as  far  away 
from  him  on  the  one  side  as  on  the  other.  If,  then,  his  own 
meridian  had  lain  not  in  Europe  but  in  India,  the  other  would 
have  crossed  the  American  Continent,  to  the  great  confusion 
of  its  present  inhabitants.  There  would  then  have  been  no 
natural  gap.  An  imaginary  line  only  would  make  it  Wednes- 
day here  and  Thursday  to  him  who  stood  a stone’s -throw 
away.  Most  fortunately,  then,  the  impossible  hiatus  occurred 
where  no  continuity  was  needed.  The  attempt  to  make  both 
ends  meet  — the  end  and  the  beginning  — was  rendered  un- 
necessary by  the  great  Pacific  Ocean.  Most  fortunate  was 
it,  indeed,  that  o})posite  the  spot  where  man  was  destined 
most  to  think  there  should  have  been  placed  so  little  to  think 
about. 

There  is  one  loss  which  most  travellers  count  a o’ain.  It 

O 

is  the  parting  with  that  day  which  we  drop  from  out  the 
circle  of  our  year  into  the  depths  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  We 
fall  asleep  one  night  in  the  new  world  to  awake  on  the 
after-morrow’s  morning  in  the  old.  The  day  that  knows  no 
to-morrow  — uas  yesterday. 

And  we  are  somehow  glad.  We  vouchsafe  the  event  a feel- 
ing, in  our  joy  tliat  we  seem  by  so  much  nearer  to  our  jour- 
ney’s end.  We  hardly  give  it  a sober  thought.  Still  less  do 
we  imagine  that  we  shall  meet  its  spirit  in  the  land  whither 
we  are  bound,  — that  we  shall  find  that  for  once  the  fancies 
of  far-Eastern  superstition  and  the  prosaic  dictum  of  Western 
science  are  at  one. 

Long  before  such  a thing  as  a prime  meridian  had  entered 
the  thoughts  of  men,  before  they  could  dream  that  their  early 


4 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


beliefs  would  later  receive  a certain  sanction  from  science,  tlie 
races  of  the  Asiatic  Continent  had  mused  about  the  day’s 
beginning-,  and  put  its  birthplace  where  we  have  agreed  to 
find  it  to-day.  Their  myths,  and  the  names  those  myths  have 
left  behind  them,  are  a pretty,  poetic  forecast  of  our  stern  matter- 
of-fact  convention.  Modern  science  needed  a starting-point 
for  the  day ; ancient  fancy  sought  the  place  from  which  every 
morning  came  forth  the  sun  : and  the  spot  they  fixed  upon  is 
the  same.  Our  present  fiction  was  an  old-time  fact.  The  sun 
rose  from  out  the  ocean ; to  the  far-Oriental  it  seemed  that  he 
must  have  slept  there.  To  them  his  abode  was  a fairy  palace ; 
to  us  it  is  a geometrical  line.  Thus  sadly  has  scientific  necessity 
caused  illusion  to  narrow  and  disappear. 

The  continent  upon  Avhich  these  early  races  found  themselves 
did  not  girdle  the  globe.  If  it  had  they  might  perhaps  have 
been  endlessly  pursuing  and  destroying  one  another  roujid  the 
circle.  As  it  Avas,  its  general  profile  shaped  their  course  to 
the  sea.  Their  birthplace  had  much  to  do  with  the  direction 
which  they  took  ; but  apparently  the  direction  in  itself,  as 
that  toward  the  rising  or  the  setting  sun,  had  little  or  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  Such  thoughts  came  later.  They  Avent  because 
theA’  Avere  driA^en,  probably  not  by  foes  behind  them,  but  by 
the  restless  spirit  Avithin.  While  the  Aryans  Avent  AvestAvard, 
certain  of  the  Turanian  peoples  struck  east ; and  from  that 
moment  they  sej)arated,  not  by  distance  ouIa’,  but  in  thought, 
in  customs,  in  those  Avays  of  looking  at  things  Avhich  Ave  are  too 
apt  to  call  innate,  once  and  forever.  They  had  differed  a little 
AAdien  they  set  out.  Tliere  Avas  a Avliole  AAmrld  of  feelings  be- 
tAveen  the  tAvo  ere  tliey  liad  both  completed  their  long  journey. 
As  Avith  tlie  Avest,  so  in  the  east.  Horde  after  horde  Avent 
forth,  — at  first,  no  doubt,  to  seek  neAv  ])asture-lands.  Like 
mauA^  a Avanderer  since,  they  forgot  the  object  that  had 
broimlit  them,  in  the  charms  of  their  neAV  surroundings. 


WHEKE  THE  DAY  BEGINS. 


5 


Arrived  at  tlie  sea-coast,  tlieir  material  advance  was  stopped  ; 
for  they  possessed  neither  the  means  nor  the  knowledge  to 
venture  upon  the  boundless  bosom  of  the  ocean.  The  land  is 
man’s  friend  ; the  ocean  is  at  best  but  neutral.  The  mind  must 
abet  the  wish,  be  it  ever  so  strong,  before  man  will  become  a 
sailor  to  lands  beyond  the  sea.  But  if  tliey  Avent  not  in  body, 
their  dreams  sped  away  to  an  earthly  j^aradise  beyond  the 
water,  — a happy  material  immortality  where  all  was  young 
and  fair.  The  names  they  have  left  behind  them  bear  witness 
to  fond  beliefs ; and  so  do  the  names  of  their  lands  to  the 
journey  that  brought  them  thither. 

The  Japanese  Avere  among  the  first,  and  they  Avent  the 
farthest.  They  came,  in  all  likelihood,  through  Avhat  is  uoav 
the  Korean  Peninsula.  Urged  by  the  same  desire  that  pushed 
our  forefathers  across  the  Asiatic  Continent  into  Europe,  they 
themselves  at  last  A^entured  upon  the  sea.  We  can  imagine 
them  risking  their  Avay  across  the  strait  that  separates  Avhat 
have  since  become  their  islands  from  the  Korean  Peninsula: 
first  to  Tsushima,  Avhich,  from  the  highlands  of  the  hilly  coast, 
they  could  see,  — a streak  of  darker  blue  against  the  sky; 
thence  they  made  out  Iki ; and  once  there  the  i.slands  Avould  be 
a Avail  in  front  of  them.  But  beAmnd  these  islands  there  Avas 
nothing  but  the  restless,  everlasting  blue.  To  their  Avatchful, 
anxious  gaze,  as  they  stood  peering  across  the  deep,  no  land 
Avas  A’isible  in  the  Avaste  of  Avaters.  But  eA^ery  morning'  the 
sun  rose  in  fiery  splendor  from  out  the  ocean.  Surely  it  Avas 
here  that  the  day  began.  There  coidd  be  nought  beyond  saA^e 
the  regions  of  the  blessed,  whence  the  day  Avas  born  aneAv 
each  morning  for  the  dAvellers  upon  this  earth  ; and  so  they 
named  their  land  “The  Day's  Beginning,”^  long,  long  ago  in 
the  morning  of  the  ages. 


^ Nihon,  from  whose  characters,  as  pronounced  hy  the  Portuguese,  comes  our  word 
Japan,  is  the  collective  name  of  the  islands  that  compose  the  Japanese  Empire.  It 


6 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


But  tliese  beliefs  were  not  confined  to  tlie  Japanese.  Both 
before  they  sailed,  and  long  after  the  wanderers  Avho  never 
i-eturned,  and  even  the  memory  of  their  Avanderings,  had  been 
utterly  forgotten  by  those  avIio  remained  behind,  such  beliefs 
existed.  From  before  the  time  of  histoiw,  the  races  alono-  the 
Asiatic  eastern  watershed  have  turned  their  gaze,  and  imagina- 
tions that  pierced  beyond  their  gaze,  toward  the  rising,  as  Ave 
do  toAvard  the  setting,  sun.  All  those  longings,  all  those  castles 
in  the  air,  dreams  of  possibilities,  — impossibilities,  — Avhich 
come  unbidden  to  him  Avho  Avatches  the  sun  as  it  sinks  to 
rest,  these  peoples  saAv  Avhen  it  rose  from  out  the  deep.  And 
so  it  happens  that  the  peninsula  Avhich  had  been  the  patliAvay 
of  the  Japanese,  and  was  destined  later  to  become  a dAvelling- 
place  permanent  beyond  its  felloAvs,  comes  to  our  notice  first  as 
a mythical  region  of  ultramundane  bliss.  It  Avas  called  “ The 
Land  of  the  God-men.”  In  it  greAV,  not  the  apple  of  the 
Hesperides,  but  the  imaginary  cactus  that  cured  all  ills,  — 
that  conquered  disease,  that  brought  immortality.  “ The  fairy 
palm  ” the  Chinese  called  it ; and  the  common  people  in  Korea 
see  it  in  the  mountain  ginseng  to-day. 

But  a neAV  horde  from  the  north  poured  forth,  and  the  gods 
took  Avings  before  them.  Less  adventurous  than  their  prede- 
cessors, they  crossed  not  the  sea  ; they  tarried  in  the  land 
and  became  a part  of  it.  Yet  they  forgot  not  their  old 
traditions ; and  as  year  after  year  and  century  after  cen- 
tury slipped  away,  Ave  may  imagine  that  they  may  almost 

is  couiinonly,  but  somewhat  loosely,  trauslated  “the  risiug  suu.”  “ Ni  ” meant 
originally  “ the  sun,”  and  thence,  hy  an  easy  transition,  its  signification  was  ex- 
tended to  mean  “the  day.”  “lion”  means  “origin.”  The  two  together,  therefore, 
mean  “ the  oi'igin  of  the  sun  or  day.”  “ Nihon,”  which  is  Sinico-Jaj)anese,  would, 
in  pure  Japanese,  he  expressed  hy  “ hi  no  nioto,”  and  not  “ hi  no  de,”  which  is  the 
expression  for  “sunrise.”  The  character  signifying  “to  appear,  to  rise,  as  of  the  sun,” 
is  quite  distinct  from  that  which  is  read  “ hon,”  which  denotes  “an  origin,  a beginning, 
a birth,  as  opposed  merely  to  an  appearance.”  A strictly  literal  rendering  hears  out  the 
mythological  origin  of  the  name,  — to  iny  thinking,  even  more  poetic  than  “The  Land 
of  the  Sunrise.” 


WHERE  THE  DAY  BEGINS. 


7 


have  looked  upon  themselves  as  the  successors  of  the  former 
myths.  At  any  rate,  the  sun  rose  for  them  in  the  peaceful 
splendor  that  wraps  the  morning  hours  there  even  to  this  day, 
and  the  sunbeams  fell  into  the  valleys  between  the  hills  and 
nestled  on  the  land.  “Morning  Calm”  they  called  it;  and  it 
seemed  not  so  much  a name  as  its  very  essence.  The  drowsy 
quiet  of  the  spot  lulled  them  to  rest,  and  they  fell  asleep. 
They  were  in  the  world,  yet  it  was  to  them  as  if  it  had 
passed  away.  And  so  they  slept  on  for  ages. 

Like  the  j^alace  in  the  fairy  tale,  everything  remained  as  it 
had  been  centuries  before.  Change  knew  them  not,  and  time 
stood  still.  Individuals  ])assed  away  and  were  forgotten,  but 
tlie  race  seemed  immortal.  No  alien  might  approach  the  place ; 
and  their  neighbors  to  the  north  and  west  seemed  quite  disposed 
to  respect  their  seclusion,  exacting  only  a tribute  for  the  privilege 
they  enjoyed  of  being  left  alone.  What  they  took  into  their 
sacred  precincts  that  they  kept.  Albeit  most  of  what  they  took 
liad  been  borrowed  from  their  neighbors’  customs,  they  clung  to 
it  as  if  it  liad  been  the  fruit  of  their  own  ideas.  And  so  it  came 
to  pass  that  we  have  here  a most  remarkable  phenomenon,  a 
living  fossilification  — the  preservation  intact  in  this  world,  the 
law  of  wliose  very  existence  is  change — of  the  life,  the  thought, 
the  manners,  the  dress,  of  centuries  ago.  In  the  Koreans  of 
to-day  we  are  not  only  looking  upon  what  is  strange,  we  are 
looking  upon  Avhat  has  once  been  and  has  elsewhere  passed 
away.  Like  the  old  Etruscan  king,  as  he  was  seen  for  a 
moment  when  his  tomb  was  exposed  to  view,  they  stand 
Ijefore  us  to-day  just  as  they  appeared  on  the  day  of  their 
inhumation.  Like  him,  too,  will  not  the  vision  all  crumble 
away  to  dust  on  contact  with  the  air  of  the  outer  world  ? 

But  Nature,  as  well  as  man,  has  singled  out  the  peninsula 
for  a charmed  region  of  the  past.  AYhen  the  long  equinoctial 
summer  drew  to  its  close,  and  the  icy  hand  of  winter  crept  over 


8 


THE  LAJsD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


tlie  north  of  Asia  and  entombed  the  mammoths  Avhere  aa’o  find 
their  skeletons  at  the  present  time,  a mantle  fell  over  Avhat  is 
noAv  Korea  and  the  countries  round  about.  It  may  have  been 
that  the  surrounding  water  for  a time  kept  the  fauna  AA'arm,  or 
they  may  have  been  so  hemmed  in  that  Nature  at  bay  fought 
for  her  life ; but  whatever  the  cause,  the  fauna  lived  on. 
Whatever  change  there  Avas,  they  acclimated  themselves  to 
it.  The  tiger  kept  his  haunts  in  the  jungle,  and  the  great 
bustards  continued  to  roam  the  plains.  Even  the  crocodile 
clave  to  the  muddy  banks  of  the  estuaries  AAdiich  for  centuries 
had  been  his,  in  spite  of  any  falling  otf  in  the  tempeniture  of 
his  habitat. 

Escape  may  have  been  cut  off.  At  all  events,  it  AA’as  easier 
for  the  fauna  to  remain,  even  under  Avhat  at  first  were  adverse 
circumstances,  than  to  migrate.  It  is  not  a little  singular  that 
this  should  have  been  the  case  It  is  certainly  surprising  that 
the  Bengal  tiger,  so  called,  — a beast  that  Ave  habitually  asso- 
ciate Avith  the  dam}),  hot  jungle,  — should  be  found  in  the  dry 
and  cold  climate  of  Korea  and  Manchuria.  Yet  there  he  is; 
and  his  appearance  is  just  Avhat  it  is  in  the  jungle  of  India,  only 
that  he  is  a trifle  smaller.  And  yet  he  frequents,  from  }Areference, 
not  the  Avarmer  A’alle^^s,  but  the  forests  on  the  sides  of  the  moun- 
tains. To  suit  his  condition,  his  hair  has  lengthened  and  his  fur 
is  all  the  handsomer.  Ills  }duck  in  remaining  has  met  Avith  its 
due  reAvard.  He  is  most  highly  honored,  much  more  so  than  he 
Avould  haA’e  been  in  the  land  Avhere  he  more  })ro])erly  belongs. 
His  name,  it  is  true,  is  a household  Avord  on  the  lips  of  both 
}Aeo}des ; but  in  the  north  it  commands  not  only  dread  but 
admiration.  He  is  regarded  as  the  archety])e  of  strength  and 
courage.  His  })icture  is  the  symbol  of  military  greatness; 
and  on  the  old  battle-flags  it  used  to  be  borne  before  the 
army  Avhen  the  Korean  soldiers  marched  to  Avar. 

The  tiger  did  not  remain  alone ; his  former  associates 


WHERE  THE  DAY  BEGINS. 


9 


stayed  likewise.  The  leopard  continued  to  live  where  his 
race  had  lived  before  him.  Even  now,  after  centuries  of 
persecution,  he  abounds  there  in  such  numbers  that  the  skins 
form  the  most  common  of  the  insigmia  of  official  rank.  Those 
from  neiirhborino:  Manchuria  — because  to  Manchuria,  unlike 
Korea,  there  is  access  from  the  outer  world — are  to  be  met 
with,  outranking  the  native  product  in  lands  whose  specialty 
such  things  are  supposed  to  be. 

With  the  flora  the  case  was  different.  Those  species  that 
covered  the  land  in  its  early  balmy  days  the  peninsula  knows 
no  more.  Their  sun  went  south  ; they  could  not  follow,  and 
they  could  not  live  without  him.  They  died. 

Perhaps  no  better  criterion  of  the  rank  of  an  organism  can 
be  chosen  than  its  strength  to  endure  adversity,  — physically 
speaking,  its  power  of  adaptability.  To  flourish  when  all  is 
fair  around  it,  when  it  meets  with  nothing  but  smiles,  is  of  the 
lowest ; but  to  stand  when  everything  compasses  its  destruc- 
tion, “ hie  labor,  hoc  opus  est.”  We  praise  it  as  it  shows  itself 
in  the  characters  of  men ; and  we  do  well.  But  it  is  deeper 
than  this.  It  is  one  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  Nature.  All 
alike,  the  lower  with  the  higher,  will  thrive  when  given  what 
they  want ; but  to  mould  wliat  is  given  into  what  is  Avanted, 
this  is  an  attribute  only  of  the  latter.  “ Quand  on  ne  pent  avoir 
ce  qu’on  ainie,  il  faut  aimer  ce  qu’on  a,”  might  truly  be  called 
the  passAvord  to  race  immortality.  Just  in  proportion  as  the 
range  of  the  capabilities  of  any  organism  becomes  extended,  as 
the  compass  of  its  poAvers  increases,  so  Avill  it  resist.  Increase 
takes  place  first  in  the  complexity  of  bodily  structure,  and  then, 
as  Ave  ascend  the  scale,  in  that  of  mind ; and  complexity  in 
mind  makes  possible  simplicity  in  matter : and  this,  it  seems 
to  me,  renders  it  possible  for  us  dimly  to  conceiA'e  hoAV  an 
infinite  mind  may,  for  its  OAvn  existence,  be  independent  of 
matter. 


10 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


The  plants,  then,  conld  not  adapt  themselves.  All  remains 
of  vegetable  life,  such  as  grow  within  the  tropics,  have  long 
ago  disappeared  from  Korea.  It  is  now,  for  all  its  past,  like 
any  of  its  sister  latitudes  for  vegetation.  And  man  has  aided 
in  the  chanore  : he  has  done  his  best  to  leave  no  aboriOTnal 
vegetation  at  all ; and  in  the  southern  half  he  has  very  fairly 
succeeded.  He  has  completely  domesticated  the  land.  Indeed, 
it  is  not  a little  surprising  to  observe  how  completely  what  Ave 
must  suppose  to  have  been  originally  a shepherd  people  has 
transformed  its  business  in  life.  Agricultural,  sedentary,  fixed, 
— such  have  become  pre-eminently  the  characteristics  of  the 
race.  What  Avas  once  a tribe  of  nomads  has  entirely  and  pecu- 
liarly forgotten  its  Avandering  instincts.  They  journeyed  cen- 
turies ago  to  the  land  of  myths,  and  became  a part  of  it,  — 
they  settled  in  the  heritage  of  the  gods,  and  were  content ; and 
a halo  as  of  immortality  has  rested  upon  them  to  this  day. 


THE  GEOGEAPHY  OF  THE  PENINSULA. 


11 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  GEOGRAPHY  OF  THE  PENINSULA. 


0 most  minds  tliere  lurks  a certain  charm  in  the  m}"s- 


A terious.  Tlie  very  fact  that  secrecy  wraps  a subject  as 
witli  a mantle  renders  us  all  the  more  eager  to  tear  away  the 
veil.  The  possession  of  this  feeling  is  at  once  an  exciting  cause 
and  a sanction  to  knowledge.  We  realize  its  power  as  regards 
persons,  things,  events  ; less  commonly  is  it  a motive  force  to 
the  study  of  a whole  nation,  and  yet  it  is  in  this  connection 
that  I would  call  upon  it  now.  I ask  you  to  go  with  me  to  a 
land  whose  life  for  ages  has  been  a mystery,  — a land  which  from 
time  unknown  has  kept  aloof,  apart,  so  that  the  very  possibility 
of  such  seclusion  is  itself  a mystery,  and  which  only  yesterday 
opened  her  gates.  For  cycles  on  cycles  she  has  been  in  the 
world,  but  not  of  it.  Her  people  have  been  born,  have  lived, 
have  died,  oblivious  to  all  that  was  passing  around  them.  They 
might  have  been  denizens  of  another  planet  for  aught  they 
knew  of  the  history  of  this.  And  the  years  glided  into  cen- 
turies, and  the  centuries  grew  to  be  numbered  by  tens,  and 
still  the  veil  remained  as  tightly  drawn  as  at  the  beginning. 
It  was  but  last  year  that  Korea  stepped  as  a dehutante  into 
the  society  of  the  Avorld. 

There  is  a certain  natural  fitness  in  beginning  the  description 
of  a country  by  positing  its  geography.  It  is  kindred  to  the  Avay 
we  commonly  make  one  another’s  acquaintance.  We  learn  to 


12 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


recognize  the  form  before  we  become  familiar  with  the  spirit ; 
and  though  the  land  is  not  the  people,  as  the  body  is  not  the 
person,  yet  both  land  and  body  have  much  to  do  with  the 
character  of  those  who  tenant  tliem. 

If  we  will  cast  our  eyes  upon  a large  map  of  the  world,  or 
still  better  upon  some  large  globe,  we  shall  discover  a peninsnla 
just  to  the  west  of  the  Japanese  islands.  It  is  the  peninsula  of 
Korea.  AVe  shall  know  it,  by  inference,  from  the  scarcity  of 
names  upon  it.  Of  a land  of  which  next  to  nothing  was  known, 
next  to  nothing  could  be  represented  ; and  we  shall  hardly  hi. 
o'lad  to  learn  that  almost  all  of  Avhat  we  shall  read  will  be  in- 

O 

correct.  Map  compilers  are  artful.  They  put  in  much  more 
information  than  they  possess ; and  then,  when  even  that  does 
not  suffice  to  cover  the  paper,  they  reduce  tlie  scale  of  the 
drawing.  By  this  artifice  the  areas  unavoidably  left  blank 
are  much  diminished  in  extent.  Unfortunately,  then,  all  that 
we  shall  be  able  to  make  out  from  our  atlas  will  be  the  exist- 
ence of  the  peninsula,  and  the  name  Korea.  AA^e  shall  not  dis 
cover  that  as  much  more  country  to  the  north  of  it  is  Korea, 
too  ; for  the  frontier  line  on  the  map  will  not  be  such  as  Avould 
satisfy  either  China,  on  the  one  hand,  or  Korea  on  the  othei> 
or  Russia,  that  all-devourer  of  other  peo])le’s  property  in  tins' 
]i)art  of  the  world,  on  both. 

It  is  hardly  surprising  that  our  maps  of  Korea  should  be 
inaccurate.  AA'here  no  one  Avas  alloAved  to  land  under  pain  of 
losing,  not  his  theodolite  alone,  but  his  head,  — an  even  more 
important  instrument  in  the  matter,  — topographers  Avere  feAv. 
OA'er  a centnrA"  ago  the  Jesuits  in  China,  indeed,  — Avho  did  and 
taught  eA^eiything  from  religion  to  ciAul  engineering,  and  Avhose 
career  Avas  more  remarkable  than  the  Avildest  imagination  Avould 
have  dared  to  paint  it,  — did  make  an  attempt  to  survey  Korea, 
but  Avith  scanty  success.  China  Avas  Avilling  enough,  but  Korea 
Avas  not. 


.'>r 


MAP  OF  THE,  ' 
PORT  & «4 

PUSAN. 


aouL 


f q H iWa 


■ V ' A 


COMPLETE  MAP 

C HO  SON. 


JAPAN 


KANG 


TSUSHIMA 


MAP  OP  THE 

POKT 


^Ut- 


TXCHON, 


KINSHIU 

JAPAN. 


QUELPART 


Htm  Kyong  To,  or  All  Mirror  Province.  Whang  He'  To.  or  Yellow  Sea  Province.  Kyong  Keui  To.  or  Capitol  8oundanes  Province  Kydng  Syang  To,  or  Happiness,  Honor  Province. 

Phyong  An  To.  or  tranquil  Province.  Kang  Won  To.  or  River  Origin  Province.  Chyung  Chydng  To,  or  Faithful.  Pore  Province-  Choi  U To,  or  Complete  Network  Province. 


To  (literally  road),  means  Province. 


MAP  OF  Korea. 


THE  GEOGRAPHY  OF  THE  PENINSULA. 


13 


Tlie  career  of  these  French  Jesuits  in  China  was  little  short 
of  supernatural,  and  it  is  a matter  fraught  with  no  small  inter- 
est and  wonder  that  their  teachings  in  religion  were  not  more 
successful  than  they  were.  If  ever  apostles  came  attended  with 
miracles  efficacious  to  the  converting  of  the  unbeliever,  they 
did.  They  reformed  the  calendar ; they  taught  mathematics  ; 
they  designed  bridges  : in  truth,  it  would  be  easier  to  enumer- 
ate what  they  did  not  do.  They  gained  the  imperial  ear ; 
• their  word  on  all  practical  subjects  became  law  to  a people  as 
numerous  as  the  whole  of  Europe  was  then.  They  became  the 
wise  men  of  the  land,  and  yet  they  converted  relatively  few. 
It  looks  as  if  they  were  much  more  scrupulous  abroad  than 
at  home  about  the  dogmas  of  their  divine  mission.  With  all 
respect  to  so  subtile  a body,  it  would  seem  that  here  was  a 
chance  for  the  clothing  of  themselves  with  a little  assumption 
of  supernatural  authority  much  more  productive  and  none  the 
less  credible  than  infallibility  at  home,  and  such  a chance  as 
may  never  occur  again.  But  peace  to  their  ashes  ! They  did 
much  good,  and  even  to  the  most  zealous  of  their  opponents  it 
must  seem  that  they  accomplished  but  little  harm.  And  with 
all  the  folly  and  evil  of  their  mistaken  lives,  they  have  ex- 
hibited examples  of  courage,  of  self-renunciation,  of  greatness, 
which  cause  us,  as  we  read  of  their  martyrdoms  in  that  distant 
land  of  Korea,  far  away  from  all  they  held  dear,  to  feel  an 
answering  throb  in  our  own  hearts.  It  is  so  easy  to  see  the 
wrong  in  our  fellow-man,  and  so  hard  to  do  honor  to  the  truly 
good  qualities  of  those  we  oppose.  It  is  indeed  a beautiful  thing 
to  have  said  of  one  what  Coquelin  (Aine)  said  of  Jacques  Nor- 
mand  : “11  a trop  de  coeurpour  que  son  esprit  soit  jamais  mediant 
et  trop  d’esprit  pour  que  le  seutiment  soit  jamais  exagere.” 

Their  topographical  attempts  on  Korea  resulted  jirincipally 
in  failure.  The  best  map  of  the  country  is  one  compiled  by 
the  Japanese  Government ; and  it  is  from  this  that  the  one 


14 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


given  has  been  reduced.  It  is,  however,  a map  made  from 
external,  — that  is,  coastwise,  — not  internal  surveying.  The 
Japanese  have  not  been  allowed  to  penetrate  the  land  freel}’; 
and  it  is  from  charts  and  miscellaneous  information  about  the 
interior,  digested  and  compiled,  that  they  have  constructed  this 
really  admirable  map.  In  1876  they  made  the  first  treaty  by 
which  Korea  had  ever  deigned  to  acknowledge  the  existence  of 
the  outer  world  ; and  then  they  proceeded  with  their  men-of- 
war  to  make  some  excellent  charts.  Their  map,  as  a whole,  is 
neither  so  accurate  nor  so  complete  as  it  might  be,  for  the  rea- 
sons mentioned  above ; but  in  the  main  it  is  correct.  It  does 
not  call  the  capital  by  the  name  of  the  province,  as  a most 
fiinious  Euro})ean  atlas  does ; nor  do  the  rivers  that  are 
drawn  on  the  paper  run  across  existent  mountain-chains  in 
Nature. 

But,  praiseworthy  as  it  is,  the  Japanese  map  is  to  be  seen, 
not  heard.  This  somewhat  enigmatical  sentence  is  literally 
exact.  The  fiicts  are  these  : On  the  Japanese  map  the  names 
of  the  places  are  printed  in  Chinese  characters,  which  the 
Koreans  themselves  use  in  the  same  way.  Now,  this  would 
be  as  perfectly  intelligible  to  the  ear  as  to  the  eye,  if  all 
those  Avho  used  the  Chinese  characters  pronounced  them  alike. 
But  they  do  not.  Each  of  the  three  nations  — China,  Korea, 
and  Japan  — pronounces  them  after  its  own  fashion.  Tlie  re- 
sult is,  that,  though  using  Avhat  are  meant  for  the  same  words, 
neither  nation  understands  the  others.  A Japanese  reading 
from  his  really  fairly  accurate  map  would  quite  fail  to  make 
any  Korean  comprehend  what  he  sought.  The}^  could  write 
to  one  another,  but  they  could  not  talk.  Something  ot  the 
same  kind,  though  not  nearly  to  the  same  extent,  is  to  be 
met  with  in  those  words  of  Erench  origin  which  the  English 
language  has  embodied.  No  Frenchman  to-day  would  under- 
stand them  from  an  Anglo-Saxon  tongue. 


THE  GEOGEAPHY  OF  THE  PENINSULA. 


15 


This  renders  the  identification  of  Korean  places  coming 
tliroiigh  the  medium  of  the  Japanese,  whether  bj  spoken  in- 
formation or  when  read  off  their  map,  impossible  even  to  a 
trained  scholar  unless  he  happen  to  be  as  Avell  versed  in  Ko- 
rean as  in  Jajjanese, — an  exceedingly  rare  accomplishment  at 
jjresent. 

To  remedy  this  difficulty,  Mr.  Satow,  late  Second  and  Japa- 
nese Secretary  of  the  British  Legation  in  Tokio,  has  compiled 
and  recently  published  a Korean  majp  giving  the  names  of  the 
places  in  English  spelling.  But  as  such  detailed  knowledge, 
at  our  present  stage  of  acquaintance  Avitli  the  land,  would  be 
neither  useful  nor  specially  interesting  to  the  world  at  large,  I 
have  not  thought  it  advisable  to  ask  for  permission  to  copy  it. 
As  time  goes  on,  it  will  become  more  and  more  valuable.  At 
present,  it  is  more  particularly  for  the  use  of  students  of  Korea. 
But  our  map,  — for  the  one  published  by  the  Japanese  is  the 
product  of  methods  similar  to  our  own,  — though  more  accu- 
rate, is  hardly  so  interesting  as  is  their  land,  seen  through 
their  own  spectacles. 

There  was  brought  to  me  one  day,  as  a curiosity,  in  con- 
sequence of  my  having  expressed  a wish  for  old  books,  what 
turned  out  to  be  an  exceedingly  interesting-  volume.  It  was 
an  atlas  compiled  by  a Korean,  some  fifty  years  ago,  from  a 
still  older  Chinese  one.  Such  was  the  date  assigned  it  by 
the  Koreans  themselves,  and  the  internal  evidence  bears  out 
the  assertion.  It  is  due  unmistakably  to  the  influence  of  the 
Jesuits  upon  Chinese  notions  of  geography,  but  has  wandered 
as  unmistakably  from  what  they  could  possibly  have  taught. 
In  plan  it  is  similar  to  our  own  atlases.  It  begins  with  a chart 
of  the  heavens  ; then  follows  a map  of  the  whole  world  ; then 
one  of  Korea ; then  the  environs  of  the  capital ; then  the  capi- 
tal itself  on  a larger  scale ; and  it  finally  winds  up  Avith  a sort 
of  family  tree  of  the  emperors  of  China,  the  kings  of  Korea, 


16 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


and  the  Chinese  pliilosophers.  It  looks  like  the  result  of  a 
compact  between  Western  teachings,  Chinese  philosophy,  and 
the  eternal  pre-eminence  of  the  ]\Iiddle  Kingdom.  Perhaps 
the  most  generally  interesting  map  is  the  one  of  the  Avorld, 
a fac-simile  of  which  is  here  given.’  It  reminds  ns  strikingly 
of  our  maps  of  “ the  world  as  known  to  the  ancients.”  It, 
too,  is  drawn  in  a sort  of  perspective,  on  the  principle  that 
whatever  is  distant  must  be  small,  because  to  the  mind  of  the 
artist  insignificant ; only  that  here  China,  instead  of  Ancient 
Pome,  is  the  point  of  view  from  which  he  surveys  the  outer 
barbarians. 

We  are  not  left  to  guess  at  the  countries  represented.  Their 
identification  comes  from  a transliteration  of  the  characters, 
even  in  the  case  of  those  for  England  and  France.  Thus  the 
names  make  certain  what  the  contours  suggest.  Throughout 
the  whole  we  see  the  hand  of  tlie  Jesuits,  whose  teachings  were 
accepted,  but  Avere  reduced  in  scale,  so  that  the  dignity  of  the 
Middle  Kiim’dom  might  in  no  wise  suffer  from  the  additional 
knoAA’ledge.  These  instructors  considered  it  unnecessary  to  in- 
troduce America  into  the  map.  They  only  vouchsafe  her  the 
folloAving  questionable  footnote  : — 

“ Below  this  South  Pole  there  is  a barren  land  by  the  name 
of  South  America,  Avhich,  together  Avith  the  continents  Ave  liaAm 
here  given,  make  up  the  five  continents  of  the  Avorld,  Once  a 
French  ship  at  the  Great  BilloAv  ^Mountain  (this  means  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  as  explained  by  the  map)  saAv  a land  in  the  dis- 
tance. On  reacliing  it,  she  found  it  (America,  as  it  Avas  after- 
Avards  called)  to  be  one  Auist  leA’el  Avilderness.  When  the  night 
came,  the  stars  seemed  to  the  ship’s  crew  to  be  much  more 
numerous  than  they  remembered  them  at  home  ; and  Avhen  tlie 
day  dawned  again,  they  could  discoA-er  no  human  being  living 
there.  The  only  sounds  of  life  Avhich  they  heard  in  this  great 
Avilderness  Avere  the  cries  of  some  parrots  in  the  distance.” 


^ This  map  appears  in  the  octavo  edition  of  this  work. 


THE  GEOGRAPHY  OF  THE  PENINSULA. 


17 


For  a piece  of  miintentional  satire,  this  is  exquisite ; and 
the  idea  of  reaching  South  America  by  taking  a short  cut 
over  the  South  Pole  is  worthy  of  the  bold  disregard  of  nat- 
ural impediments  that  suggests  our  Nortli  Polar  expeditions. 
I forbear  to  draw  any  conclusions  from  the  wilderness  and 
the  parrots. 

To  show  how  fairly  accurate  at  this  time  was  their  geograph- 
ical knowledge,  when  not  stretched  by  a desire  to  seem  greater 
than  their  neighbors,  I may  mention  in  passing  the  map  of 
Korea.  Though  the  details  are  not  what  they  should  be,  the 
general  features  are  in  tlie  main  correct.  The  boundary-lines 
of  the  provinces  of  the  kingdom  are  curiously  enough  pro- 
longed, out  into  the  water,  as  far  as  this  is  represented.  The 
device  was  perhaps  suggested  by  the  fact  that  in  some  in- 
stances numerous  islands,  too  small  to  be  shown  on  the  map, 
rendered  it  necessary ; and  a desire  for  uniformity  prompted 
tlie  rest.  The  wavy  lines  that  picture  the  sea  have  at  least 
tlie  merit  of  sug^^estiveness. 

Let  us  now  take  up  again  the  reproduction  of  the  Japanese 
map.  As  Korea  has  little  or  no  past  that  is  the  common  prop- 
erty of  tlie  world,  and  is  only  just  beginning  to  have  such  a 
present,  to  translate  the  characters  that  apjiear  in  the  original 
would  be  even  worse  than  to  omit  them  altogether.  They  have 
therefore  been  left  out. 

Of  special  importance  are  two  sets  of  geograjDhical  details ; 
and  the  interest  attaching  to  them  springs  from  two  diametri- 
cally opposite  reasons.  The  one  is  connected  Avith  the  land’s 
long  night  of  seclusion ; the  other,  with  her  opening  to  the  rest 
of  the  world. 

One  still  occasionally  meets  Avith  the  expression  “the  island 
of  Korea.”  The  phrase  is  a bit  of  early  hearsay  noAv  crys- 
tallized into  an  article  of  geographical  faith,  much  in  the  same 
manner  as  formerly,  though  Avithout  eA’en  so  much  excuse,  there 


18 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORXIXG  CALM. 


■svere  said  to  be  two  emperors  in  Japan,  — tlie  one  a spiritual, 
tlie  otlier  a temporal,  head  to  tlie  nation.  No  such  separation 
between  matters  of  this  world  and  of  the  next  ever  existed  in 
Japan;  and  similarly,  whatever  geology  may  eventually  inform 
us  on  the  sul)ject,  man  from  his  own  experience  never  knew 
Korea  as  an  island.  He  has  often  wislied  that  he  had.  The 
Koreans  tliemselves  would  have  been  only  too  happy  to  make 
of  this  fiction  a fact.  Unfortunately  for  their  desire  for  privacy, 
it  was  not  only  not  an  island,  but  they  were  not  able  even 
practically  to  render  it  such.  Though  separated  from  the  rest 
of  mankind  on  three  sides  by  the  sea,  on  the  fourth  they 
offered  a long  line  of  assailable  territory.  This  they  were 
never  able  to  defend.  Luckily  for  them,  their  neighbors  had 
not  the  craving  for  possession,  the  greed  for  land,  — that  ogre- 
like  propensity  of  nations  to  grow  by  swallowing  all  that 
lies  adjacent  to  them.  So  when  these  last  had  pushed  the 
Koreans  back  to  a certain  natural  barrier,  there  they  suffered 
the  line  to  rest.  This  boundary  is  one  Avhich  Nature  first, 
and  fable  afterwards,  has  in  some  sort  marked  out  for 
remembrance. 

At  the  northwestern  corner  of  the  map  lies  a liigh  peak, 
known  from  the  snow  which  rests  upon  its  summit  as  the 
Ever-White  ^Mountain.  It  is  famous  as  the  birthplace  of 
Korean  folk-lore,  and  a great  deal  that  is  mythical  hangs  about 
it  still.  It  is  said  to  be  thirty  miles  high.  This  sounds  like 
even  a stretch  upon  a certain  Japanese  method  of  measur- 
ing the  height  of  mountains,  where,  for  the  height  proper,  is 
substituted  the  length  of  the  ascent,  and  a mountain  is  called 
as  many  miles  high  as  the  path  up  it  is  long.  But  here  there  is 
no  well-worn  path,  and  it  would  seem  as  if  the  deviations  from 
tlie  straight  road  had  all  been  counted  too.  To  its  inaccessi- 
bility is  due,  probably,  the  supposed  existence  of  a little  lake 
near  the  top,  which  is  said  to  give  birth  at  once  to  two 


THE  GEOGKAPHY  OF  THE  PEXIXSULA. 


19 


streams.  From  the  snows  as  they  melt,  tliese  two  streams, 
on  opposite  sides  of  the  mountain,  fall  down  through  the 
half-litrlit  of  tlie  forest  to  the  sunshine  of  the  vallev  below. 

O «. 

One  of  them  forms  a river,  called  in  Korean  “ The  River  of  the 
Duck’s  Green,”  which  then  flows  southerly  and  separates  Korea 
from  China.  Tlie  other  is  the  Tu  Man  Kang,  which  flows 
northeasterly  and  divides  Korea  from  the  last  acquisitions  of 
Russia  in  the  far-east.  Thus  the  Ever-White  Mountain,  to- 
gether with  what  flows  from  it,  marks  the  only  land-boundary 
of  the  kingdom.  The  Sea  of  Japan  on  the  ea.st,  and  the  Yellow 
Sea  on  the  south  and  west,  form  the  other  barriers  that  have 
helped  so  long  to  keep  Korea  to  herself. 

Having  seen  how  Korea  is  cut  ofiP  from  the  continent,  the 
next  set  of  positions  to  be  noticed  are  of  precisely  an  opposite 
nature,  — namely,  those  points  at  which  she  has  at  last  snftered 
herself  to  be  approached,  — the  treaty  ports.  In  modern  far- 
Eastern  geography  the  treaty  ports  play  a very  important  role. 
They  are  far  more  than  merel}^  ports  of  the  country  on 
Avhose  sea-coast  they  lie.  With  one  or  two  exceptions,  prin- 
cipally the  capitals  of  the  lands,  they  constitute  the  only  places 
wliere  Europeans  may  live.  They  thus  become  practically  for- 
eign colonies ; for  tlie  foreign  community  lives  under  its  own 
laws,  quite  independent  of  those  of  the  country  in  which  it  is. 
To  foreigners,  therefore,  they  are  in  some  sort  the  far- East 
itself,  — tliat  part  of  it  alone  which  they  may  call  home,  but 
which,  with  tlie  patriotism  of  their  several  races,  they  never 
do  so  call,  no  matter  how  many  years  their  sojourn  in  them 
may  have  lasted.  The  result  is  that  in  Japan,  for  instance, 
Yokohama  is  to  most  foreigners  a more  important  name  than 
Tokio,  though  the  former  has  at  most  but  sixty  thousand  in- 
habitants, of  whom  about  a twentieth  are  Europeans,  while  the 
latter  has  twelve  hundred  thousand,  and  is,  beside,  the  capital 
of  the  empire. 


20 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


In  Korea  tlie  treaty  ports  are  three  in  nnmher, — Wensan 
on  the  north,  Pusan  on  the  southeast,  and  Inchon  situate  iialf- 
way  up  the  Avest  coast.  By  the  revised  Japanese  treaty  of 
1880,  and  by  the  subsequent  treaties  with  America,  England, 
and  Germany,  these  three  places  have  been  opened  to  foreign 
trade.  Of  these,  Wensan  has  a productive  country  behind  it, 
productive  so  far  principally  of  skins  and  hides ; Pusan,  a 
history  and  a Japanese  colony;  and  Inchon,  its  |)roxiinity  to 
the  capital  to  recommend  it.  They  are  also  very  favorably 
situated  for  an  equal  distinbution  of  sea-coast  in  draining  tlie 
commerce  of  the  interior.  These  advantages  Avill  become  more 
apparent  as  soon  as  there  is  any  commerce  to  drain.  There 
is  another  matter  that  hain})ers  their  general  usefulness,  — the 
climate.  It  is  only  during  the  summer  months  that  they  are 
all  available.  Such  is  the  rigor  of  the  climate,  that  the  harbor 
of  Wensan,  the  most  northern,  is  frozen  over  from  Kovember 
to  April,  and  that  of  Inchon  more  or  less  blocked  during  the 
same  period.  AVithont  constant  navigation,  therefore,  to  keep 
the  channel  clear,  they  become  for  a great  part  of  the  year  un- 
approachable. Inchon,  indeed,  would  hardly  become  so  were 
it  not  that  it  is  situated  near  the  mouth  of  the  river  Han,  whose 
current  brings  down,  Avhenever  the  Aveatlier  moderates,  large 
masses  of  floating  ice,  — an  almost  more  sei’ious  obstacle  to 
vessels  than  a solid  sheet  Avould  be.  Pnsan  is  open  the  year 
round;  but  it  is  so  far  from  the  capital  — at  present  the  ob- 
jective point  — that  for  purposes  of  reaching  Korea  it  ma}"  be 
said  not  to  exist.  By  the  present  means  of  conveyance,  it  is 
ten  days  distant  from  the  capital.  Soul. 

And  this  brings  us  to  Avhat  is  peculiarly  the  most  impor- 
tant place  in  Korea,  — Soul.  Central  in  interest,  it  is  also 
central  in  position.  Of  the  many  capitals  which  the  peninsula 
has  had,  it  is  the  last.  It  is  also  the  southernmost.  Taken  east 
and  Avest,  or  north  and  south,  it  is  almost  in  the  middle  of  the 


THE  GEOGKAPHY  OF  THE  PEXINSULA. 


21 


land.  Its  position  may  be  approximately  learned  from  some  of 
our  own  atlases,  where  it  fig'iires  under  the  name  of  Kinkitao. 
This  is  not  its  name,  however,  but  a misspelling  of  the  name 
of  the  province  in  which  it  lies;  just  as  the  harbor  of  Pusan 
was  set  down  in  the  early  charts  as  the  harbor  of  Chosan,  be- 
cause, in  reply  to  questions  of  men-of-war’s  men  as  to  what  it 
was  called,  the  natives  answered,  “ Choson,”  — the  name  of  the 
countiy,  — supposing  the  question  to  refer  to  the  greater,  not 
the  less.  It  is  suggestive  to  note  how  precisely  opposite  the 
answer  would  have  been  in  Europe  or  America,  where,  to  the 
peasant,  the  national  is  lost  in  the  local. 

On  the  Japanese  map.  Soul  figures  as  a rectangle  of  some 
size.  This  representation  is  due  to  its  intrinsic  importance ; 
but  it  is  amply  justified  topographically,  from  the  extent  of 
ground  the  place  covers. 


22 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOIINING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  CLIMATE. 


EXT  to  tlie  physical  features  of  any  land,  the  most  im- 


portant question  we  can  ask  in  regard  to  it  is  of  its 


In  the  minds  of  a great  many  people  there  still  lingers  a 
trace  of  the  old  Roman  classification  of  the  world  into  citizens 
and  barbarians.  It  lingers,  I mean,  in  a certain  geographical 
sense.  There  is  a prevailing  impression,  indefinite  but  Avide- 
spread,  that  countries  not  the  birthright  of  men  of  European 
blood  must  be  tropical  in  their  climate.  So  a friend  of  mine 
once  cleverly  put  it,  as  Ave  sat  crouching  over  a fire  on  an 
afternoon  toAvard  the  end  of  May  in  the  capital  of  Japan.  If 
exceptions  are  recognized  in  the  belief,  it  is  only  in  favor  of 
those  places  Ausited  by  North  Polar  expeditions. 

Noav,  to  any  one  avIio  has  happened  to  inhabit  one  of  the 
lands  included  in  this  generalization,  — almost  as  ])leasingly 
loose  in  its  application  as  is  the  Avord  Turanian,  — the  notion 
has  seemed  an  amusing  delusion  at  certain  seasons  and  a bitter 
satire  at  others.  To  read  epistles  from  Avell-meaning  friends, 
congratulating  you  upon  the  delicious  heat  you  are  enjoying,  — 
the  A"ery  thought  of  Avhich,  they  Avrite,  contrasts  most  painfully 
with  their  oavu  cold  surroundings,  — to  read  these  held  in  hands 
Avhich  threaten  momentarily  to  freeze  is  not  jocose.  Your  first 
feeling  is  one  of  Avicked  joy  that  your  friend  is  as  badly  treated 


climate. 


THE  CLIMATE. 


23 


as  you  are ; your  secoud  a still  more  fiendish  one,  to  an- 
swer him  in  the  vein  he  expects,  and  so  keep  him  enviously 
wretched. 

The  belief  is  not  without  some  show  of  excuse.  The  foreign 
lands  first  visited  by  Europeans  were  indeed  tropical,  and  the 
temperate  zones  they  later  came  to  know  were  so  far  away 
from  home  that  exact  information  about  them  found  difficulty 
in  reaching  the  mother  country  ; not  to  mention  that  the  road 
to  them,  whether  they  lay  to  the  north  or  the  south,  to  this 
side  or  the  other  of  the  equator,  necessarily  traversed,  in  either 
case,  the  subtropical  belt.  But  Avhatever  excuses  can  be  made 
for  it,  the  impression  is  none  the  less  erroneous. 

Perhaps  such  current  expressions  as  “in  those  latitudes,” 
“ foreign  latitudes,”  and  the  like,  have  helped  to  keep  alive  the 
delusion;  for  familiar  phrases  go  for  much  toward  the  shaping 
and  preserving  of  general  opinions.  Insensibly  the  mind  comes 
to  ascribe  an  intilnsic  truth  to  its  own  formulce.  In  this  case  it 
was  not  unnatural  that  the  imagination  should  seek  to  clothe 
Nature  herself  ^vith  a certain  strangeness,  in  order  to  suit  a 
tale  that  was  strange.  The  very  term  “ latitude,”  which  should 
have  been  earth-wide  in  signification,  came  to  seem  restricted 
to  something  peculiar ; and  the  tropical  belt,  because  heard  of 
first,  furnished  the  material  for  the  clothing  of  the  idea. 

Now,  these  phrases  were  all  very  well  in  their  day  for  the 
purpose  for  which  they  were  originally  employed.  When  men 
Avent  abroad  to  seek  for  foreign  lands  rather  than  foreign  peo- 
ples, latitudes  Avere  the  best  standards  of  comparison  ; for  the 
most  marked  and  obvious  differences  in  Nature  linked  them- 
selves at  once  Avith  latitude.  Then,  again,  it  AAvas  in  ships  that 
the  early  explorers  journeyed ; and  ships,  as  they  had  given 
rise  to  the  idea,  helped  to  perpetuate  the  expressions.  A some- 
Avhat  parallel  case  of  misleading  is  to  be  found  in  the  A^aluable 
projection  of  Mercator,  — invaluable  for  that  for  Avhich  it  Avas 


24 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


invented,  and  worse  than  useless  when  introduced  into  tlie 
teaching  of  the  geograph}^  of  the  land.  Every  one  can  re- 
member, when  a school-boy,  firmly  believing  that  Greenland 
was  considerably  bigger  than  South  America ; for  so  it  was 
represented  on  the  maj). 

But  when,  in  addition  to  the  foreign  places  themselves,  the 
peojde  living  there  came  to  be  a subject  of  interest,  the  appli- 
cability of  the  criterion  ceased.  The  substitution  of  the  term 
“ loiigitudes”  in  place  of  “latitudes  ” would  have  been  more  to 
the  point;  for  almost  all  nations  which  have  risen  to  greatness 
have  dwelt  within  a narrow  belt  of  parallels  coincident  roughly 
with  the  temperate  zone,  and  more  accurately  still  with  certain 
limiting  isothermal  lines.  Apparent  exceptions,  like  that  of  the 
Aztecs  in  Mexico,  foil  really  under  the  rule ; for  these  people 
inhabited  a high  plateau,  whose  climate  differed  entirely  from 
that  of  the  sea-level  at  the  same  parallel.  What  is  true  else- 
where is  equally  true  of  what  we  call  the  semi- civilized  nations 
of  the  far-East ; and  for  the  same  reason,  — the  presence  of  a 
degree  of  cold  sufficient  to  create  a stimulus  to  work,  and  yet 
not  severe  enough  to  destrov  it. 

In  saying,  therefore,  that  Korea  is  civilized,  we  define  its  cli- 
mate, and  from  that  follows  approximately  its  latitude.  We 
place  it,  by  inference,  not  in  the  tropical,  but  in  the  temperate 
zone ; and  this  is  where  it  lies.  Its  latitude  ranges  from  33| 
degrees  north  latitude,  — that  of  the  island  of  Quelpart,  the 
farthest  of  the  great  southwestern  archipelago,  on  the  south,  — 
to  43  degrees  of  north  latitude,  on  the  north,  Avhere  the  Tu 
Man  Kang  bars  the  Russian  advance,-  and  from  a little  beyond 
which  the  town  of  Vladivostock  looks  longingly  southward  to 
the  coveted  land  and  watches  its  opportunity  to  spring  across. 
It  might  — indeed,  most  certainly  would  — have  done  so,  had 
Korea  slumbered  much  longer. 

The  climate  of  the  country  is  what  its  latitude  and  its 


■tliiiiilll 


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THE  CLIxAIATE. 


position  with  regard  to  the  continent  Avonld  lead  ns  to  expect; 
only  that  the  position  is  here  of  greater  importance  than  usual 
in  the  question.  The  situation  of  the  peninsula  has  altered 
the  relation  of  the  winter  and  snnnner  isotherms  more  than 
we  should  perhaps  have  predicted. 

As  Ave  know,  the  position  of  a coast,  whether  it  lie  on  the 
eastern  or  AA'estern  limiting  edge  of  a large  body  of  land,  is  as 
great  a factor  in  the  matter  of  climate  as  is  the  absolute  par- 
allel. Not  only  is  the  mean  annual  isothermal  line  deflected 
from  the  latitude  it  occupies  in  the  centre  of  the  continent,  but 
the  relative  positions  of  the  summer  and  Avinter  isotherms  are 
altered,  and  the  changes  on  the  Avestern  side  are  very  ditferent 
from  those  on  the  eastern.  This  is  even  more  markedl}'  the  case 
Avith  the  Asiatic  than  Avith  the  American  Continent.  We  must 
compare  the  climate  of  Korea,  then,  not  AA'ith  that  of  Europe,  — 
AAdiich  it  does  not  in  the  least  resemble,  — but  rather  AAutli  that  of 
the  eastern  seaboard  of  America.  Similar  prevailing  AA’inds  and 
similar  ocean  currents  tend  to  the  same  climatic  result.  We 
may  therefore  say,  generally  speaking,  that  the  climate  varies 
from  one  like  that  of  Washington,  for  the  southern  part  of  the 
peninsula,  to  one  like  that  of  Maine  in  the  extreme  north.  Like 
ours,  its  summer  is  short  and  hot,  its  autumn  clear  and  beautiful, 
and  its  AA’inter  cold  but  fair.  But  there  is  one  season  Avhicli  I 
liaA'e  omitted  ; and  I am  afraid  that  Avhen  I come  to  speak  of  it, 
it  may  seem  to  destroy  the  resemblance  betAA'een  the  tAAm.  Its 
spring  is  a true  spring.  No  feverish  anxiety  there  to  hasten  on 
in  the  middle  of  January,  as  if  it  feared  that  it  nfloflit  be  late  ; 
then  a hasty  relapse  again  into  Avinter,  finding  itself  long  before 
time ; and  then  a period  of  vacillation  CA'ery  otlier  day,  until, 
haA’ing  frittered  aAA'ay  all  the  time  at  its  disposal,  it  is  obliged 
to  plunge  all  of  a sudden  bodily  into  summer.  There  is  no 
such  Aveakness,  no  months  of  indecision,  there.  Tlie  spring 
makes  its  advances  sloAAdy  but  surely,  and  the  trees  Avith  their 


26 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


blossoms  can  count  upon  it.  They  open  their  buds,  — the 
earliest  Avhile  the  snow  is  still  upon  the  ground,  — and  break 
into  flower ; and  they  never  sufifer  for  the  trust  they  give  it. 

The  Koreans  bemn  their  vear  a month  later  than  we  begfin 
ours.  Owing  to  this  reckoning  and  to  the  steady  character 
of  the  spring,  tliere  is  a natural  reality  in  their  conventional 
birth-time  of  the  year.  The  year  begins  for  man  when  it 
begins  for  Nature ; and  the  earth  awakes  from  her  winter’s 
slumber  with  a blush,  for  it  is  in  tree-flowers  that  slie  shows 
her  return  to  feeling. 

The  plum-tree  is  the  first  to  bloom,  — not  the  edible  plum, 
but  that  species  Avhich  is  known  in  Japan  as  ume.  By  the  end 
of  January  it  begins  to  blossom,  — a pretty  pinkish-white  flower. 
It  is  quite  beautiful  in  itself ; and  then  from  being  the  first,  it 
is  specially  prized.  It  is  not  easy  to  convey  to  the  Western 
mind  an  idea  of  the  mingled  love  and  admiration  the  far-Ori- 
ental  lavishes  upon  it.  The  feeling  is  mostly  a perversion  of 
Avhat  was  meant  to  flow  into  other  channels ; but  though  spring- 
ing, to  a great  extent,  simph^  from  within,  there  is  in  these 
far-eastern  lands,  even  to  the  foreign  eye,  much  to  call  it 
forth. 

Few  of  the  better  houses  at  this  season  of  the  year  are 
without  a plum-tree,  or  at  least  a branch  of  one.  It  blossoms 
in  their  gardens ; but  this  is  not  a close  enough  companionship 
for  their  love.  It  must  be  where  they  can  constantly  see  it ; so 
it  is  taken  into  the  house  and  blossoms  in  the  room  in  which 
its  owner  spends  most  of  his  indoor  life, — for,  however  many 
rooms  may  make  up  his  house,  there  is  one  which  is  particu- 
larly his  dwelling-place  by  day  and  by  night.  Poetry  and 
painting  vie  Avith  each  other  in  their  attempts  fittingly  to 
praise  the  flower.  Sonnets  innumerable  are  Avritten  in  its 
honor,  and  haA^e  been  from  dim  antiquity.  It  is  the  motive 
or  the  accessory  in  pictures  Avithout  number,  and  its  name  is 


THE  CLIMATE. 


27 


one  of  the  commonest  of  tlie  flower-names  of  girls.  Tlie  glory 
of  the  tree  vanishes  with  its  flower,  for  it  bears  no  fruit. 

Early  in  April  the  cherry-tree  comes  into  bloom ; and  of  all 
the  superb  succession  of  flowering  trees  and  shrubs  it  is  the 
finest.  It  is  all  flower,  — one  mass  of  blossoms,  — and  flower  is 
all  that  it  is,  for  its  fruit  is  not  worthy  the  name.  Nature  rarely 
yields  both  in  perfection  from  the  same  tree.  With  us  we  are 
granted  the  fruit  and  denied  the  flower.  We  may  think  not. 
We  niay  admire  the  apple  blossoms,  the  peach,  the  pear;  but 
after  we  have  once  seen  the  gorgeous,  lavish,  spendthrifty  man- 
ner in  which  Nature  scatters  her  tree-flowers  in  eastern  Asia,  we 
begin  to  think  that  at  home  we  have  been  robbed. 

In  Korea  the  sight  is  fine,  but  in  Japan  it  is  even  finer.  It 
is  not  that  the  trees  difler.  The  flora  in  this  respect  is  prac- 
tically the  same  for  the  two  lands,  but  the  social  condition  of 
the  people  is  quite  different.  In  Ja})an,  each  kind  of  tree,  as 
its  turn  brings  it  round,  is  made  the  occasion  of  a festival.  It 
is  an  epoch.  In  masses  the  people  flock  to  see  the  sight ; and 
crowds,  such  as  are  pever  to  be  met  with  at  any  other  time, 
collect  in  those  places  that  are  famous  for  their  trees.  And  yet 
even  with  all  this  tribute  of  adoration,  the  beauty  is  but  par- 
tially done  justice  to.  The  blossoming  of  the  cherry-tree  is  one 
of  the  great  events  of  the  year.  To  see  it  is  a sensation.  It 
carries-  you  away.  You  feel  as  if  the  earth  had  decked  herself 
tor  her  bridal,  and  you  had  somehow  been  bidden  to  the  wed- 
ding. There  are  several  kinds  of  cherry-trees  : some  have  single 
flowers,  like  ours  ; some  double  ones  ; but  all  are  covered  thick 
with  the  white  blossoms,  touched  ever  so  faintly  with  pink.  The 
trees,  laden  with  their  masses  of  light  and  color,  — the  two 
seem  one  for  the  delicacy  of  the  tint,  — stand  out  in  dazzling 
contrast  with  the  brilliant  blue  of  the  sky;  and  the  ground 
beneath  is  white,  like  snow,  with  the  fallen  j^etals.  And  un- 
derneath this  splendid  canopy  is  the  passing  to  and  fro  of  the 


28 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKXIXG  CALM. 


pleasure-seeking  multitude.  "Wliat  the  sight  is,  may  perhaps 
be  judged  from  the  fact  that  men  of  naturally  slothful  habits 
have  been  known  to  get  up  at  frightfully  matutinal  hours, 
and  then  travel  several  miles,  in  order  to  see  the  trees  be- 
fore the  morning’s  mist  has  risen  from  them.  Some  varieties 
are  earlier  than  others,  and  particular  places  are  noted  for 
l^articular  kinds.  This  week  it  will  be  Uyeno  ; the  next,  Oji 
or  Mukojima  or  Koganei.  One  place  of  entertainment  suc- 
ceeds another,  — a long,  continuous,  and  yet  ever-changing 
fete. 

The  cherry-blossoms  past,  the  wistaria  begins  to  open  its 
grape-like  bunches  of  flowers.  In  its  turn  it  becomes  tlie  event 
of  the  day.  Crowds  gather  in  the  gardens  where  it  grows,  as 
they  did  two  weeks  before  at  the  cherry-trees,  and  pleasure- 
])arties  are  made  up  to  go  to  see  it.  After  the  wisteria,  comes 
the  tree  peony  ; then  the  iris.  It  is  one  long  chain  of  flowers ; 
and  this  is  spring.  It  is  more  of  a sight  in  Japan,  because  the 
public  is  greater,  and  gardens  and  parks  have  been  planted 
on  purpose  that  it  may  be  enjoyed.  In  Korea  there  is  no  pub- 
lic, properly  speaking ; the  people  are  an  unconnected  mass 
of  individuals.  Collectively  they  amount  to  nothing,  and 
singly  the}^  are  too  poor  to  procure  what  tliey  would  like. 
Everything  is  for  the  official  few.  In  their  gardens,  but  on 
a small  and  therefore  not  nearly  so  impressive  a scale,  may 
be  seen  the  same  beauty  that  commands  in  Japan  an  annually 
recurrent  national  admiration. 

And  spring  lingers : it  is  in  no  hurry  to  leave  a land  that 
seems  to  have  been  created  for  it.  The  dawn  of  the  year  con- 
tinues where  the  dawn  of  the  day  began.  From  the  end  of 
Januaiy  till  the  beginning  of  June  it  is  spring.  And  it  never 
goes  of  its  own  accord : it  is  fairly  driven  out  by  the  summer 
rains  ; for  from  early  in  June  till  the  middle  of  July  lasts  Avhat 
is  called  the  rainy  season.  Tliough  not  a rainy  season  proper, 


THE  CLIMATE. 


29 


it  is,  as  it  were,  a counterpart  in  a small  way  of  what  takes 
place  within  the  trojhcs.  During  this  month  the  sun  rarely 
sliines  ; it  is  cloudy  almost  continuously,  and  nearly  every  day 
it  rains.  The  weather  is  very  much  like  that  of  our  summer 
storms,  only  that  one  storm  follows  without  a break  upon  the 
ending  of  the  one  before.  It  stops  raining  only  to  gather  force 
to  rain  again,  and  the  clouds  remain  the  while  to  signify  the 
rain’s  intention  to  return.  In  cold  and  gloom  the  sky  weeps 
for  a month  the  departure  of  the  spring,  and  the  first  hot  day 
rarely  comes  upon  you  before  the  middle  of  J uly. 

Then  follow  two  months  when  it  is  hot,  — as  hot  as  it  is  any- 
where at  any  time,  except,  indeed,  in  peculiarly  favored  locali- 
ties, like  the  Red  Sea ; much  hotter,  for  instance,  than  it  is  on 
the  equator.  And  this  suggests  a common  misapprehension 
about  the  heat  within  the  tropics.  There  is  a vague  general 
impression  that  the  heat  there  must  be  very  great.  This  is, 
however,  a fallacy.  Of  course,  it  is  warm ; but  for  taking  the 
palm  away  from  the  land  of  its  birth  there  is  nothing  so  de- 
serving as  a good  July  day  in  New  York.  The  apparent 
paradox  is  not  difficidt  of  explanation. 

The  word  “ tropics”  is  often  used  very  lightly  in  popular  par- 
lance, as  if  it  meant  that  belt  on  the  earth’s  surface  which  sur- 
rounds the  equator.  Of  course,  it  means  nothing  of  the  sort. 
If  we  would  confine  ourselves  to  the  longer  expression  “ within 
the  tropics,”  it  would  be  better;  for  the  word  “tropic”  is  the 
name,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  of  those  two  imaginar}^  lines  upon 
the  surface  of  our  globe  at  which  the  vertical  sun  at  noon  seems 
to  turn  from  travelling  northward  or  southward,  as  the  case 
may  be,  and  moves  backward  again  toward  the  equator.  The 
sun  then  is  just  as  much  overhead  on  the  tropic  of  Cancer,  say, 
twenty-three  and  a half  degrees  north,  at  the  summer  solstice 
(this  apparent  standing  still  of  the  sun),  as  it  ever  is  at  the 
equator,  Avhich,  be  it  remembered,  does  not  take  place  in  sum- 


30 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


iiier,  but  ill  spring  or  autumn.  But  — and  this  is  the  impor- 
tant point  in  the  whole  matter  — it  is  mucli  more  overliead  on  the 
parallel  of  the  tropic,  so  to  speak ; for  it  rises  at  that  season  — 
as  by  turning  a globe  the  reader  will  see  it  must  — to  the  north 
of  east  and  sets  to  the  north  of  Avest.  Its  path  is  therefore 
both  longer,  and  remains  more  nearly  A^ertical,  for  the  hours  on 
either  side  of  the  noon  jioint  than  ever  is  the  case  at  the 
equator ; so  that  for  a feAv  days  in  the  middle  of  summer, 
such  a })lace  as  Hong  Kong  gets  more  heat  than  for  the  same 
length  of  time  ever  falls  to  the  lot  of  Singapore.  The  climate 
naturally  shows  it.  Ilong  Kong  in  its  hot  weather  swelters 
under  a temperature  unknoAvn  at  any  season  at  the  Straits 
Settlements.  I have  purposely  chosen  these  two  places  for 
comparison,  liecause  they  are  in  other  respects  pretty  similarly 
situated.  Both  lie  upon  islands  off  a coast,  and  that  coast,  in 
a general  way,  the  same. 

Now,  as  one  goes  north,  the  sun  rises  farther  and  farther  to 
the  north  of  east,  and  sets  farther  and  farther  to  the  north  of 
west,  on  this  midsummer  day.  The  day  gains  in  length  as  it 
loses  in  momentary  exposure,  — that  is,  in  the  more  or  less 
nearly  A’ertical  position  of  the  sun  for  each  instant  of  time  ; 
and  these  varying  elements  are  so  connected  as  to  make  the 
amount  of  heat  received  at  this  time  by  the  north  pole  actually 
greater  in  the  proportion  of  five  to  four  than  that  received  at  its 
most  favorably  placed  season  by  the  equator.*  The  reason  that 
Arctic  explorers  do  not  suffer  much  from  it  is  that  it  is  tran- 
sitory. The  air  and  other  substances  do  not  have  time  to 

^ A simple  intccjration  shows  this.  The  amount  of  lieat  received  at  the  equinoxes 
hy  the  earth’s  surface  at  the  equator  is  represented  hy  the  formula  2 sin.  6.  dd  ; 
which  gives  the  value  2.  At  tlie  pole,  at  tlie  summer  sidstiee,  tlie  amount  received 
is  expres.sed  hy  sin.  23|°.  fW ; whose  value  is  roughly  2.5.  At  their  respective 
m-axima  of  exposure  to  tlie  sun,  therefore,  the  pide  I’eceives  more  heat  tlian  the  equator 
in  the  proportion  of  5 to  4.  The  evident  continuity  in  the  value  of  the  more  general 
function,  of  whicli  these  two  are  particular  cases,  shows  tliat  the  maximum  for  other 
latitudes  iucreases  steadily  as  we  pass  from  the  equator  to  tlie  pide. 


THE  CLIM/VTE. 


31 


become  thoroughly  heated,  saturated  as  it  were,  and  thus  aid, 
themselves,  in  the  heating  effect. 

We  see,  then,  that  such  a place  as  New  York  does  not  start 
so  far  behind  in  the  race  for  temperature  as  we  might  at  first 
suppose  ; so  near,  indeed,  that  any  little  accident  of  physical 
geographical  position  is  quite  enough  to  render  it  hotter,  at  its 
hottest  season,  than  the  rest  of  the  Avorld. 

In  Korea,  then,  during  July,  August,  and  September,  it  is 
hot,  at  times  very  hot.  The  effect  is  increased  by  the  ph^’sical 
conformation  of  the  land.  The  narrow  valleys  that  lie  among 
the  hills  collect  all  the  heat  they  may,  and  then  have  but  little 
opportunity  to  part  with  it.  They  thus  succeed  in  reaching  a 
temperature  impossible  for  places  devoid  of  such  protection. 

With  the  autumn  comes  beautiful  weather,  and  the  same 
gorgeous  change  of  foliage  as  in  North  America.  The  maples 
die  in  color,  and  under  the  scarlet  of  their  leaves  may  be  seen 
the  same  admirers  that  came  to  worship  the  glory  of  the  spring. 
Red  seems  peculiarly  the  tint  of  coming  and  departing.  We 
know  why  it  is  so  at  the  be<?inniim  and  the  end  of  the  day ; 
we  have  not  yet  learnt  wh}^  it  should  also  be  the  sign  of  the 
birth  and  death  of  the  year. 

By  the  end  of  November,  in  Koreti,  winter  begins  to  set  in ; 
and  soon  the  ponds  and  the  rivers  freeze,  and  the  snow  falls  to 
bury  the  year  that  is  past.  The  temperature  descends  to  a fair 
degree  of  cold.  During  the  winter  I spent  in  Soul,  it  went 
down  to  nine  degrees  above  the  Fahrenheit  zero,  and  for  days 
together  it  never  rose  above  the  freezing-point  night  or  day. 
The  changes  are  not  very  violent ; though,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  temperature  is  not  peculiarly  steady.  Slight  thaws  alter- 
nate with  cold  waves.  A keen  north  wind,  that  feels  as  if  it 
had  come  straight  from  the  Siberian  steppes,  so  icy  it  seems, 
drives  away  the  lingering  clonds  only  to  reveal  their  frozen 
forms  still  clinging  in  the  rigid  grasp  of  death  to  the  peaks,  — 
the  white  wraiths  of  the  storm. 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  ^VIORNING  CALM. 


Owiiioc  to  tlie  latitude  of  Soul,  tliirtv-seven  and  a half 
degrees  north,  the  sun’s  power  there,  even  in  midwinter,  is 
so  great  that  the  snow  at  the  sea-level  never  lies  deep  upon 
the  ground.  After  a heavy  snow-storm,  the  evening  before, 
it  is  surprising  to  those  accustomed  to  more  northern  lati- 
tudes to  notice  how  (piickly  it  vanishes  in  places  exposed  to 
the  sun.  If  it  were  not  for  repeated  additions,  there  would 
be  very  little  even  in  the  depth  of  winter ; and  as  the  sea- 
son advances  and  the  days  lengthen,  you  niay  trudge  home- 
ward some  night  through  a heavy  fall  of  snow,  to  find  on  the 
next  afternoon  no  trace  of  it  left.  You  have  therefore,  almost 
simultaneously,  the  coming  of  snow,  like  a snow-storm  in  New 
York,  Avith  a disappearance  of  it  Avorthy  of  Virginia  ; and  yet 
it  may  be  far  colder  on  the  day  it  vanishes  than  on  the  day 
it  appeared. 

To  this  fact  it  is  due  that  Ave  find  in  Korea  so  feAv  of  the 
inventions  common,  in  one  form  or  another,  to  all  countries 
Avhere,  during  a part  of  the  year,  it  is  cold  beloAv  freezing. 
SleijThs  do  not  exist.  In  the  matter  of  sleds  there  is  cer- 
tainly  in  the  neighborhood  of  Soul,  about  the  middle  of  the 
country,  north  and  south,  nothing  but  a certain  kind  in  vogue 
among  the  fishermen  on  the  ice,  Avhich  they  use  to  sit  on  Avhile 
fishing,  and  on  Avhich  afteiuvards  they  drag  home  the  result  of 
the  day’s  Avork.  As  for  skates,  the  idea  is  unknoAvn.  In  fact, 
beyond  the  fishermen,  above  mentioned,  the  average  Korean 
aA’oids  venturing  upon  ice  in  Avinter  as  he  Avould  into  Avater 
in  summer.  The  frozen  state  seems  to  be  just  about  as  aAve- 
inspiring  to  him  as  the  liquid  one  is  commonly  elseAvhere. 


THE  COAST. 


33 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  COAST. 


N atmosphere  is  as  a garment  to  a land  : it  enhances  its 


beauty  by  partially  concealing  it.  To  this  land  of 
morning  myths  Nature  has  given  a most  fitting  mantle.  The 
atmosphere  that  envelops  the  coast,  lends  it  now  haze  to  hide, 
now  mirag-e  to  magnifv.  Both  the  concealment  and  the  illusion 
are  due  to  the  same  cause,  — to  a certain  ocean  current. 

Along  the  eastern  coast  of  Asia  flows  Avhat  is  called,  in  Jap- 
anese, the  Kuro  Shiwo,  or  Black  Tide.  It  is  an  ocean  current 
similar  to  the  Gulf  Stream  of  the  Atlantic  seaboard  of  America. 
These  two,  Avhich  similarity  of  position  has  similarly  engendered, 
are  among  the  largest  of  ocean  rivers.  They  are,  indeed,  riA^ers 
in  that  they  floAv  intact  through  stationary  surroundings ; but, 
unlike  those  on  land,  their  history  is  not  one  of  gradual  accre- 
tion, but  of  repeated  separation.  It  is  with  the  first  great  loss 
of  the  Black  Tide  that  Ave  have  noAv  to  do.  One  compa'ct  mass, 
the  stream  floAvs  nortliAvard  from  the  caldron  of  its  birth,  till 
it  brings  up  somewhat  abruptly  upon  the  southern  end  of  the 
Japanese  islands.  It  strikes  them  so  full  that  a part  of  it  is  cut 
off.  The  trend  of  the  coast  causes  the  greater  portion  to  keep 
on  nortliAvard  and  eastAvard,  just  skirting  the  land,  and  con- 
tinuing on  past  the  Kuriles,  Kamchatka,  and  the  Aleutian  Isles, 
to  descend  the  upper  American  shore.  In  times  past,  man  has 
involuntarily  used  it  as  a higliAvay.  Junks  bloAvn  off  to  sea  in 

3 


34 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


storms  have  been  carried  by  its  force  across  the  ocean ; and 
many  a Avaif  has,  after  its  long-  journey,  been  cast  upon  the 
shores  of  another  continent. 

No  such  distant  Avandering  is  destined  for  the  other  branch. 
Turned  more  directly  north,  it  enters  the  strait  Avhich  separates 
Japan  from  the  peninsula  of  Korea,  in  AAdiose  midst  stand  the 
pair  of  islands,  Tsushima,  guarding  the  approach  to  the  Sea  of 
Japan.  This  is  the  end  of  the  unlucky  stream.  The  place  is  a 
perfect  cul-de-sac.  Although  it  has  not  the  appearance  of  it  on 
the  map,  practically  there  is  no  exit.  Having  once  Avandered 
in,  the  stream  can  only  revolA^e  round  and  round ; for  the 
straits  betAveen  the  mainland,  Saghalien,  Yesso,  and  tlie  main 
island,  respectively,  are  but  shalloAv,  Not  long  ago,  Mr.  Milne 
informs  us,  Japan  Avas  tied  to  the  great  continent ; and  these 
breaks  in  the  chain  liaA^e  since  been  made,  due  to  ocean  forces, 
Avhich  have  perhaps  been  aided  by  the  restlessness  of  the  im- 
prisoned current.  Itself  Avarin,  it  is  chilled  by  the  reception  it 
meets  Avith  at  the  hands  of  the  northern  sea.  It  cannot  escape  ; 
it  AA’ill  not  mingle.  So  it  leaves  the  cold  Avater  for  tlie  more 
congenial  air ; and  thus  for  a ])art  of  the  year  Ave  haA’e  fog,  at 
another  time  mirag-e.  During  the  summer  months  the  coast 
of  the  peninsula  and  tlie  neighboring  sliores  up  along  Siberia 
are  veiled  in  mist.  As  the  Aveather  gets  colder,  the  heavy  con- 
densed A'ajior  is  gradually  absorbed  by  the  air  and  disappears 
to  the  eye,  Avhile  the  evaporation  from  the  surface  of  the  Avater 
still  goes  on ; and  of  the  land,  from  having  seen  nothing  at  all, 
Ave  come  to  see  tAvice  as  much  as  really  exists. 

The  character  of  the  coast,  hoAvever,  is  such  as  not  to  need 
the  magic  touch  of  the  air.  It  is  grand  of  itself ; mirage  only 
renders  it  Aveird.  A bold  and  hilly  country  rises,  range  behind 
range,  till  the  purple  of  the  mountains  is  lost  in  the  blue  of  the 
sky ; Avhile  from  the  southern  extremity  of  the  peninsula,  half- 
AA'ay  up  the  length  of  its  Avestern  side,  this  mainland  is  girdled 


THE  COAST. 


35 


by  a fring-e  of  islands.  Some  are  mountains,  sunk  to  their 
■waists  in  the  sea  ; some  are  but  isolated  crags  that  rise  abruptly 
from  the  "SA^ater’s  edge.  All  are  high,  reaching,  in  places,  one 
or  two  thousand  feet.  When  doubled  by  mirage,  the  effect  is 
comparable  only  to  Avhat  we  see  represented  so  often  in  the 
paintings  of  the  people,  — precipices  hung  in  air. 

To  one  approaching  Korea  from  the  sea,  the  first  land  he 
will  make  will  be  the  liigh  hills  around  the  harbor  of  Pusan  ; 
for  most  of  the  boats  that  latterly  have  begun  to  run  between 
Korea  and  her  neighbors  touch  first  at  that  port.  Whether 
the  steamers  are  from  Shanghai  or  Yokohama,  they  make 
Nagasaki,  in  either  case,  their  point  of  departure ; and  then  a 
run  of  from  thirteen  to  sixteen  hours  takes  them  across  the 
straits  to  Pusan,  on  the  southeastern  end  of  the  peninsula. 
The  first  impression,  as  the  distant  streak  of  blue  resolves  it- 
self into  the  semblance  of  real  land,  is  forbidding  enough,  — 
crags  which  are  uninhabitable  and  mountain-slopes  equally 
tenantless.  Pounding  one  of  the  latter,  AAdiich  proves  to  be 
an  island,  the  steamer  opens  out  a nearly  landlocked  bay, 
surrounded  almost  entirely  by  hills.  At  its  entrance  stand 
three  pinnacles  of  rock.  They  look  as  hard  and  remorseless 
as  the  sea  tliat  hurls  itself  against  their  bases.  Chilling  as 
is  the  vieAV  seaward,  to  look  up  the  bay  is  no  less  desolate. 
Tlie  perpendicular  lines  of  crag  have  given  place  to  tlie 
curves  of  the  hills ; but  there  is  nought  to  suggest  the  pres- 
ence of  man.  Even  trees,  Avhich  seem  the  nearest  approach 
to  tlie  human  in  a landscape,  are  Avanting.  One’s  first  idea 
of  Korea  is  as  of  the  spirit  of  desolation  made  A’isible. 

Turning  still,  the  steamer  suddenly  brings  into  AueAv  a 
little  knoll,  at  Avhose  base  are  grouped  some  scoi’e  of  houses. 
They  are  not  so  far  off  but  that  a glance  sIioavs  them  to  be  not 
Korean,  but  Japanese.  It  is  the  Japanese  colony  of  Fusan.  It 
is  in  some  respects  a remarkable  colony.  In  tlie  first  place,  it 


36 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  ITORXIXG  CALM. 


is  the  only  one  that  the  Japanese  have  ever  had.  The  spirit  of 
trade  — the  great  colonizing  motive-power  — is  not  a strong 
element  in  the  Japanese  character;  the  Chinese  are  the  Eng- 
lish of  the  far-East.  Secondly,  it  is  historic.  For  centuries  it 
has  been  a bit  of  transplanted  Japan.  Ever  since  the  invasion 
of  the  peninsula  in  1592,  the  Japanese  have  held  it  almost  with- 
out a break ; it  has  been  a little  fortress  by  itself  in  an  alien 
land.  Yet,  though  it  has  lived  amidst  Korean  manners  and 
customs  for  so  long,  it  has  not  been  in  the  least  affected  by 
them  : it  is  still  Japan.  Xor  have  the  Koreans,  in  their  turn, 
been  leavened  by  it.  The  natives  of  the  neighborhood,  im- 
pelled a little  by  the  desire  to  trade,  and  more  by  the  curiosity 
for  foreign  sights,  visit  it  by  day,  but  they  return  at  night  to 
their  own  town.  The  only  thing  they  have  deigned  to  acquire 
has  been  some  knowledge  of  the  Japanese  language ; so  that 
to-day  interpreters  from  Korean  into  Japanese  are  either  men 
from  the  neighborhood  of  Fusan  or  else  returned  refugees. 

The  Korean  town  of  Pusan  lies  about  two  miles  away,  round 
the  bay.  When  you  learn  to  distinguish  the  thatched  roofs  of 
the  houses  from  the  brown  of  the  withered  grass,  it  can  just  be 
made  out  from  the  steamer’s  anchorage.  From  Fusan  a road 
leads  over  the  seaward  slopes  of  the  hills  to  it,  and  you  are  first 
made  aware  of  its  existence  by  seeing  a procession  of  distant 
ghosts  slowly  winding  their  way  along  this  path.  The  white 
dresses  of  the  Koreans,  and  their  slow  decorous  movements,  lend 
themselves  involuntarily  to  such  spiritualistic  hallucination. 

From  having  doubted  their  actual  humanity  you  will  next 
come  to  doubt  their  sex.  On  going  ashore  you  are  at  once 
surrounded  by  a respectful  but  expectant  crowd.  Y ith  the  men 
gathered  about  the  landing-place  are  mingled  a number  of  young 
and  pretty  faces.  They  belong  to  persons  of  less  stature  than 
the  men,  similarly  clothed  but  differing  from  them  in  being  hat- 
less, and  in  wearing  their  hair  in  one  long  loose  braid  down  the 


THE  COAST. 


37 


back,  after  the  fashion  of  young  girls  at  a certain  age  with  ns. 
Every  stranger  has  mistaken  them  for  girls,  and  not  a few 
men-of-war’s  men  have  boasted  of  the  impression  they  have 
produced  upon  the  fair  ones  by  well-directed  attentions.  Great 
has  been  their  subsequent  discomfiture,  and  hearty  the  raillery 
of  their  comrades,  when  told  that  the  objects  of  their  devo-  . 
tion  were  only  boys ; for  this  manner  of  wearing  the  hair  is 
the  common  practice  in  boyhood,  and  simply  denotes  that  the 
boy  is  still  unmarried.  For  their  want  of  stature  and  their 
pretty  faces  their  youth,  not  their  sex,  is  responsible ; and  for 
their  being  mistaken  for  their  sisters,  the  entire  absence  of 
visible  femininitv  the  cause.  As  for  real  Avonien,  it  is  no  easv 
matter  to  see  any.  Those  of  the  better  class  are  strictly  se- 
cluded from  their  seventh  year  onward,  and  the  poorer  fly  at 
one’s  approach  like  startled  deer.  To  the  foreigner  the  first 
step  in  the  discrimination  of  sex  in  Korea  is  that  all  that  is  seen 
is  male. 

However  well  acquainted  one  may  be  with  China  or  Japan, 
his  first  inq^ression  on  landing  in  Korea  will  be  that  he  stands 
on  terra  incognita.  At  first  sight,  nothing  reminds  him  of  that 
land,  only  fourteen  hours  away  across  the  straits,  a part  of 
which,  indeed,  — the  islands  of  Tsushima,  — he  may  still  see, 
by  climbing  a few  hundred  feet  above  the  town.  He  feels 
that  he  is  on  unfamiliar  soil.  Xor  does  he  feel  it  more  than 
do  the  Japanese  themselves;  and  a common  sense  of  isolation 
begets  a mutual  feeling  of  affinity,  such  as  years  spent  in  the 
liome  of  either  people  by  the  other  would  never  induce.  Xa- 
tions,  like  men,  show  their  most  agreeable  side  when  away 
from  home. 

Fiisan  is  composed  principally  of  one  long  street,  turning 
half-wav  in  its  course  at  rio-ht  ano-les  to  itself.  The  villao’e 
has  taken  the  form  of  a carpenter’s  square,  with  the  bay,  or 
rather  two  bays,  to  mark  its  outside  limits,  and  a steep  hill. 


OO 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


in  Avliat  would  be  the  inside  angle  of  the  square,  to  bar  its 
extension  inland.  Down  the  middle  of  the  main  street  runs 
a canal  a few  feet  wide,  spanned  at  intervals  by  planking. 
Along  its  sides  are  rows  of  trees.  At  the  outer  corner  of  the 
square  is  the  knoll  from  which  the  town  takes  its  name  ; for 
Fusan  — in  Korean,  Pusan  — means  ‘Mcettle  mountain,”  and 
the  name  was  given  the  place  from  a fancied  resemblance  in 
this  knoll  to  a kettle  upside  down.  A Ja2)anese  temple  now 
crowns  the  top,  and  the  whole  is  covered  Avith  trees. 

The  Koreans  that  lounge  about  the  streets  of  the  settlement, 
and  that  may  be  seen  coming  and  going  over  the  rough  hill- 
j)ath,  are  itinerants  from  the  Korean  Pusan.  The  same  curiosity 
that  prompts  any  one  Avho  comes  upon  a trail  of  ants  ceaselessly 
])ursuing  their  journey  along  a highway  of  their  own,  to  follow 
up  the  line,  in  order  to  discover  the  spot  of  exodus,  tempts  the 
stranger  to  wander  out  in  search  of  this  human  ant-hill,  Pusan, 
and  see  Avhat  it  is  like  ; for  from  the  Japanese  toAvn  it  is  in- 
visible. The  end,  to  a certain  extent,  justifies  a tramp  over 
anything  but  a pleasant  path  ; for  an  hour’s  walk  Avill  show 
him  his  first  Korean  walled  town. 

After  several  futile  ascents  and  descents,  necessitated  by 
])rojecting  spurs  of  the  hills,  the  path  descends  finally  to  the 
shore,  where  on  the  long  sands  native  craft  are  being  beached 
to  discharge  the  catch  they  have  just  gathered  from  the  sta- 
tionary nets  in  the  bay,  and  all  about  the  sand  are  strcAvn 
fish  of  every  description.  Tlie  beach  is  the  market ; and  a 
strolling  crowd  keep  it  lively  and  gay  by  incessant  bargain- 
ing and  an  occasional  purchase.  While  the  stranger  examines 
the  fish,  the  croAvd  examine  him.  Just  off  the  beach  begin 
the  houses, — the  outskirts  of  the  town.  They  are  not  above 
ten  feet  high  at  the  ridgepoles,  and  seven  at  the  eaves ; and 
the  streets  are  narrow  alleys,  in  keeping  Avith  the  one-story 
dwellings.  A few  hundred  3Uirds  of  Avinding  lanes,  enlivened 


THE  COAST. 


39 


by  an  occasional  hasty  scuffle  which  means  that  some  woman 
has  been  surprised  into  flight  by  the  sight  of  a stranger,  lead  to 
the  wall  of  the  town.  Seen  from  without,  it  is  a2:>parently  a 
solid  structure  of  stone ; but  on  mounting  to  the  top,  which  is 
done  from  within,  you  discover  it  to  be  made  of  earth  enclosed 
by  a shell  of  granite  blocks.  It  is  twenty  feet  on  the  outside, 
not  more  than  twelve  within,  and  is  crenellated  on  the  outer  edge. 
Between  tlie  parapet  and  the  inner  edge  is  a broad  walk  of 
beaten  eartli.  Though  the  height  is  not  great,  it  is  enough  to 
overlook  all  but  the  more  imposing  buildings,  such  as  tlie  mag- 
istracy. On  both  sides  are  meadows  of  thatched  roof ; for  the 
town  has  grown  since  the  wall  was  built  to  protect  it.  Like 
a great  snake,  it  can  be  traced  lying  in  sinuous  irregularities 
around  the  older  part  of  tlie  town.  A gateway  — as  imposing 
a building  as  any  in  the  place  itself — gives  the  road  admit- 
tance. A stone’s-throw"  within  stands  the  magistracy.  Though 
a low  building-  of  one  storv,  it  rises  above  the  neig-hboring'  roofs, 
and  is  second  in  heig’ht  onlv  to  the  gate. 

A short  distance  from  the  town  is  another  magistracy.  It  is 
a collection  of  buildings  surrounded  by  its  own  stone  Avail.  In 
this  is  a gate  similar  to  the  city  gate ; but  outside  of  the  Avhole, 
and  some  little  way  off  from  it,  is  a most  singular  structure.  It 
is  a sort  of  skeleton  gateway,  — the  scaffolding  for  a gateAvay 
Avhich  the  architect  had  thought  of  building  and  then,  conclud- 
ing to  abandon  the  attempt,  had  been  too  lazy  to  remove  AA'hat 
he  had  put  up  in  preparation.  So  it  might  appear  to  any  one 
Avho  saAV  it  for  the  first  time  ; for  it  stands  all  alone  by  itself  in 
the  middle  of  the  road,  a couple  of  cross-bars  connecting  tAvo 
tall  posts.  It  is  akin  to  the  torii  of  Japan,  and  is  the  outer 
portal  to  the  magistracy.  A portal,  and  yet  entirely  discon- 
nected AA’itli  that  of  AA’hich,  in  one  sense,  it  forms  a part,  it 
seems  to  typif}^  Pusan  itself ; for  you  enter  at  both  to  find 
}'ourself  noAvhere,  after  all.  At  Pusan  you  are  in  Korea,  and 


40 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


yet  you  are  not.  Though  you  might  thence  travel  overland 
to  the  capital,  practically  to  reach  it  the  road  lies  once  more 
hy  sea ; for  to  travel  overland  is  a wearisome  journey  of  ten 
days,  devoid  of  all  tliose  means  of  comfort  and  of  locomotion 
which  to  a European  are  a part  of  the  necessaries  of  life.  When 
the  journey  by  sea  is  an  imj)ossibility,  because  the  port  on  the 
western  side  of  the  peninsula,  the  one  near  Soul,  is  inaccessible 
for  the  ice,  Korea  becomes  once  more  shut  off  from  the  rest  of 
tlie  world. 

From  Pusan  it  is  a voyage  of  thirty-six  hours,  when  ever}"- 
thing  is  propitious,  to  Chemulpo,  the  port  of  Inchon  on  the 
western  coast.  If  anything  goes  wrong  with  either  the  weather 
or  the  vessel,  — and  such,  at  the  period  of  which  I write,  was 
very  frequently  the  case,  — it  may  take  an  indefinite  time  to 
reach  one’s  destination.  (We  Avere  comparatively  fortunate  ; 
Ave  Avere  but  two  da3^s  and  a half  from  port  to  port.)  The 
coast  is  but  imperfectly  charted;  and  if  it  comes  up  to  bloAv 
or  the  fog  rolls  in,  navigation  at  once  becomes  dangerous,  and 
A^essels  make  for  some  natural  harbor  to  aAvait  a better  season. 
Besides,  the  greater  part  of  the  feAV  steamers  that  ply  there,  are 
not  Avhat  tlieA"  might  be  ; and  accidents  — serious,  fortunately, 
only  to  time  — happen  at  intervals. 

Just  as  the  sun  Avas  going  to  his  setting,  and  the  shadoAvs 
of  the  hills  behind  Avere  creeping  stealthily  out  over  the  tOAvn, 
like  giant  arms  extending  to  enfold  it  in  the  embrace  of  night, 
the  steamer  AA^eighed  her  anchor,  as  if  hastening  to  escape,  and 
stole  past  tlie  gaunt  sentinels  at  the  harbor’s  entrance  out  into 
the  deep.  As  she  turned  the  point  and  began  to  breast  the 
Avind  and  the  sea  that  rolled  in  from  the  soutliAvest,  everything 
changed  of  a sudden  to  an  ashen  gra}" ; and  a chill,  to  the 
thought  as  to  the  senses,  took  the  place  of  the  peaceful  quiet 
of  the  bay.  The  sea  had  lost  its  color;  and  the  spray,  as 
it  dashed  up  from  off  the  vessel’s  boAvs,  seemed  to  heighten 


THE  COAST. 


41 


the  cold,  liard  look  of  all  around.  Then  all  deepened  into 
night. 

The  next  morning  we  were  off  the  southern  end  of  Korea, 
amongst  the  archipelago  of  islands.  A solitary  ship,  off  a 
still  more  solitary  coast.  The  Japanese  captain,  dressed  in 
European  clothes,  together  with  the  pilot,  a man  of  the  same 
race,  slowly  paces  the  bridge,  and  anxiously  watches  the 
islands  as  they  grow  from  out  the  deep,  the  only  beacons  on 
an  almost  unknown  coast.  Group  after  group  rise  into  view, 
like  deeper  blue  dots,  upon  the  blue  circle  of  the  horizon, 
increase  in  size  and  distinctness,  are  passed,  and  sink  again 
in  like  fashion  in  the  distance  behind. 

As  soon  as  one  passes  Quelpart,  the  largest  of  these  island.s, 
as  also  the  one  farthest  to  the  south,  there  is  a most  marked 
change  in  the  character  of  the  sea.  Off  Japan  and  through  the 
Tsushima  Straits,  the  water  is  a beautiful  blue ; but  the  Yellow 
Sea,  into  Avhich  we  now  come,  thoroughly  deserves  its  name, 
yellow  being  a poetic  idealism  for  the  color  of  mud.  The 
Wliaim  IIo  Kian^:  and  the  Yang-  Tse  Kiang-  besides  numer- 
ous  smaller  streams,  bring  down  vast  cpiantities  of  sand  and 
mud  in  suspension,  the  veiy  name  of  the  former  river  tes- 
tifying to  its  peculiarly  muddy  character.  These  rivers,  from 
the  shallowness  of  the  sea  into  which  they  empty,  spread  out 
to  a vast  distance  and  color  the  water.  To  increase  the  effect, 
the  tides  are  enormous ; and  it  is  no  doubt  principally  to  their 
scourings,  sweeping  in  and  out  four  times  a day  along  a Avide 
expanse  of  flats,  that  the  result  is  due.  We  can  notice  a kin- 
dred effect  in  the  color  of  the  Enirlish  Channel  and  in  that 
of  the  head  reaches  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  in  both  of  which 
places  the  tides  are  peculiarly  high,  combined  with  a shalloAv 
depth  of  water.  In  the  midst  of  these  flats  stand  innumer- 
able islands.  Any  one  aaIio  has  seen  the  Mont  St.  Michel  and 
its  attendant  setting  of  ooze  will,  by  depriving  it  of  man’s 


42 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORXIXG  CALM. 


liandiwork  and  then  mnltiplying  it  indefinitely,  be  able  to  form 
a very  good  general  idea  of  the  Avest  coast  of  Korea. 

These  islands  or  hills  — for,  amphibian-like,  those  nearest 
the  mainland  are  either,  according  to  the  state  of  the  tide  — 
are  forbidding  Avhen  more  closely  approached.  They  are  really 
submerged  hills,  Avhich  Time  and  its  folloAA  er,  Disintegration, 
liaA’e  been  at  Avork  to  render  bare.  In  the  smaller  ones  they 
luxA'e  succeeded  in  their  process  of  denudation  ; and  precipitous 
rocks,  deA’oid  of  soil,  rise  from  the  Avater’s  edge  like  the  skele- 
tons of  their  former  selves.  So  they  must  look  to  Korean 
fancy ; for,  in  poetic  metaphor,  the  people  call  rocks  the  bones 
and  soil  the  flesh  of  the  Avarm  living-  earth.  The  larsfer  still 
luiA^e  the  appearance  of  mountains,  though  much  has  been 
Avashed  from  them  by  the  rain  to  help  make  up  the  ooze 
around  them.  A short  grass  covers  them  ; but  of  bushes  and 
trees  there  are  almost  none.  Only  along  the  foot  of  some 
of  the  slopes  a clump  may  noAV  and  then  be  descried ; and  it 
invariably  betokens  a collection  of  Ioav  thatched  roofs.  The 
barrenness  is  to  a certain  extent  a consequence  of  the  soil,  but 
to  a much  o-reater  deo-ree  the  result  of  the  need  for  fuel.  As 

O O 

the  GoA’ernment  has  forbidden  the  Avorking  of  the  coal-mines, 
the  population  is  driA^en  to  timber,  eA^en  to  t^vigs,  for  the  means 
of  Avannth  durino;  the  rioforous  cold  of  Avinter.  Its  ruthless  hand 
has  not  spared  beauty,  nor  been  stayed  by  thought.  Only 
superstition  has  caused  it  to  pause,  and  that  at  the  A’ery  summit 
of  its  profanation.  All  the  more  conspicuous  for  their  lone- 
liness, two  or  three  trees  stand  out  to  A'ieAv,  here  and  there, 
upon  the  \’ery  top  of  a hill.  Seen  against  the  brighter  back- 
ground of  the  sky,  they  look  like  silhouettes  of  solitary  vegeta- 
tion. They  Avould  seem  to  be  the  last  survivors  of  destruction 
as  it  creeps  sloAvly  upAvard.  But  it  is  not  so.  Their  position, 
indeed,  but  not  their  inaccessibility,  is  their  safeguard  ; for  they 
are  sacred.  They  are  symbols  of  a cult  Avhich,  for  no  merit 


THE  COAST. 


43 


of  its  own,  has  outlived  the  religious  that  were  iDlauted  long- 
after.  And  so  there  they  stand  to-day  in  grand  isolation,  sin- 
gled out  from  all  that  once  have  been,  proclaiming  a supersti- 
tion of  a far  past,  like  sentinels  in  sight  of  one  another  across 
the  dreary  exjDanse  of  waters. 

Two  days  out  from  Pusan  found  us  steaming,  like  some 
lost  vessel,  up  the  long  reaches  that  were  to  end  at  Chemulpo. 
“ The  world  forgetting,  by  the  world  forgot,”  only  a strong- 
faith  in  human  testimony  justified  tlie  assumption  that  we  were 
approaching-  anytliing.  Tlie  feeling  was  lieiglitened  by  the 
strange  look  of  both  people  and  land.  About  me  were  men 
clad,  as  imagination  might  paint  the  denizens  of  another  planet, 
but  not  such  as  I liad  once  supposed  existed  on  this ; while,  on 
turning-  to  the  coast,  I seemed  to  be  carried  back  in  geologic 
time  as  before  I had  felt  changed  in  space.  Around  me  lav 
suggestions  of  the  earlier  unformed  ages  of  the  earth.  Huge 
porpoise-backed  mounds,  unsightly  because  deprived  of  Xa- 
tnre’s  covering-  of  trees,  and  vast  plains  of  mud  alternated 
with  stretches  of  sea.  The  scene  had  the  desolateness  of  the 
early  geologic  ages. 

Especially  dreary  was  the  spot  on  the  December  day  when 
I first  saw  it.  Over  it  was  spread  a leaden  canopy  of  cloud. 
Tlie  Aveather  was  cold,  and  it  had  begun  to  suoav.  The  flakes 
fell  softly  doAvn  and  disappeared  alike  in  the  heaving  Avater 
and  the  hardly  more  stable  ooze  ; AAdiile  a feAv  gulls,  like  un- 
easy departed  spirits,  circled  endlessly  hither  and  thither,  A’ainly 
searching-  for  something-  they  never  found. 


44 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  V. 

CHEMULPO. 

CHEMULPO  is,  by  nature,  a desolate-looking  spot.  Man 
has  made  it  more  so.  It  is  the  port  for  Soul.  To  call 
it  the  port  of  Soul  would  be  to  dignify  it,  and  belittle  the 
capital  out  of  all  proportion.  It  was  formerly  a little  tishing- 
hamlet,  a few  thatched  huts  nestling  in  a hollow  of  a bare 
hill.  It  faced  neither  the  sea  nor  yet  the  land,  but  as  it 
were  a compromise,  — a small  island  with  a corresponding  col- 
lection of  thatched  roofs.  So  like  their  surroundings  are 
these  twin  villages,  that  one  has  to  look  carefully  for  them  to 
discover  them.  It  would  Avellnigh  be  possible  to  sail  by  and 
report  the  land  uninhabited.  Especially  true  is  tliis  in  winter 
when  grass  and  thatch  are  the  same  dull  brown ; and  tliere 
are  almost  no  trees  to  break  the  uniform  monotony. 

The  place  is  not  a harbor.  In  this  region  of  islands  and 
mud-flats  a harbor  is  an  impossibility.  It  is  a roadstead,  and 
an  uncommonly  distant  roadstead  at  that.  Out  beyond  several 
islands,  utterly  cut  off  not  onl}^  from  an}-  view  of  the  town,  but 
from  the  slightest  suggestion  of  tlie  presence  of  man,  lie  the  one 
or  two  foreign  vessels  which  may  at  the  moment  be  anchored 
off  the  place.  It  is  a voyage  in  itself  to  come  ashore. 

On  the  seaward  slojie  of  the  same  hill  has  sprung  up  the 
mushroom  Japanese  colony.  It  contains  but  one  European- 
built  house,  which,  paradoxically  enough,  is  the  Japanese 


CHEMULPO. 


45 


consulate.  It  is  painted  white.  Its  size  and  its  color  make 
it  a landmark  far  out  to  sea,  the  only  sign  at  a distance 
that  one  is  not  approaching  primitive  desolation. 

The  place  lies  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Han,  — if,  indeed, 
a stream  whose  current  loses  itself  gradually  in  the  ebb  and 
flow  of  the  sea  for  eighty  miles  above  the  point  where  it  enters 
the  ocean,  and  which  then,  long  after  it  should  have  parted  with 
its  identity,  still  persists  in  wandering  aimlessly  about  among 
innumerable  islands,  can  be  said  to  have  a mouth.  The  village 
is  not  far  from  the  nearest  point  on  the  sea-coast  to  the  capital, 
and  it  is  the  nearest  point  of  the  sea-coast  to  the  sea.  Usually 
the  port  of  any  city  fulfils  but  one  condition  of  proximity. 
Chemulpo  has  to  try  to  satisfy  two.  Even  as  it  is,  the  steam- 
ers lie  more  than  a mile  out.  Owing  to  the  character  of  the 
land,  isolated  hills  and  level  valleys  between,  and  to  the  great 
rise  and  fall  of  the  tides,  the  coast  may  be  said  to  be  amphibious. 
At  high  water,  islands  like  huge  lazy  porpoises  dot  the  surface  of 
the  sea ; Avhen  the  tide  is  out,  they  change  their  element,  and 
assume  the  role  of  mountains  in  a peaty  district.  The  height 
of  the  rise  is  between  twenty  and  thirty  feet ; but  this  is  enough 
to  lay  the  strand  bare  for  miles,  so  that,  at  low  water,  the  sea 
Avould  seem  to  have  left  never  to  return.  What  Avere  large 
bays  have  become  glistening  ooze,  and  the  ocean  itself  can 
only  be  made  out  on  tlie  verge  of  the  horizon. 

The  Koreans  liaA'e  neA^er  been  a maritime  people.  The 
disposition  of  the  race  forbade  intercourse  Avith  their  neighbors 
by  sea  as  Avell  as  by  land,  and  the  piratical  craft  of  these  same 
neiglibors  destroyed  any  domestic  coast-trade  that  sprang  up, 
and  compelled  the  Koreans  to  retreat,  snail-like,  yet  closer  into 
their  shell.  Nature  certainly  offered  little  to  tempt  them  out. 
Owing  to  the  great  rise  of  the  tides,  Avharves  are  Avellnigh  im- 
possibilities, even  supposing  the  idea  of  such  contrivances  ever 
entered  the  heads  of  the  people,  Avhich,  from  collateral  evidence. 


4G 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


seems  very  improbable,  would  therefore  have  been 

obliged  either  to  moor  at  an  incredible  distance  from  shore 
or  wait  for  liigh  Avater  to  beach  their  boats.  In  the  first 
case,  it  woidd  have  been  necessary  to  wait  for  high  tide  to 
get  out  to  their  boats ; and  in  the  second,  to  Avait  for  a like 
opportunity  to  get  out  in  them,  for  the  unstable  ooze  AAdiich 
is  left  bare  much  resembles  a quicksand.  Of  the  tAvo  eAuls 
they  chose  the  latter.  They  thus  became  dependent  upon  the 
moA'ing  of  the  AAaters,  Avhicli  rose  faAmrably  either  for  landing 
or  leaving  practically  but  once  a day.  If  they  got  off,  they 
found  gi'eat  difficulty  in  getting  back,  and  if  they  returned, 
tliey  could  not  get  otf  again;  so  that,  in  tlieir  case,  both  the 
Avill  AA'as  AA'eak  and  the  AAay  Avanting,  and  they  stayed  at 
home.  The  result  is  that  to-day  the  eastern  half  of  the  YelloAv 
Sea  is  as  deserted  as  the  coast  looks  desolate.  Only  noAv  and 
then  one  comes  across  a junk  carrying  supplies  to  an  island 
village,  or  bound  fishing.  Instead  of  the  fleets  of  huge  square 
sails,  as  in  Chinese  or  Japanese  AA'aters,  there  is  but  an  occa- 
sional Avanderer,  like  some  belated  traA’eller  hastening  to  be 
gone.  Taa’o  masts  are  the  rule ; and  the  latteen  sails  are  laced 
horizontally,  like  the  Chinese,  to  slender  strips  of  bamboo, 
Avliich,  Avith  the  unavoidable  vertical  seams,  give  the  effect  of 
a patcliAA  ork  of  a dirty  yelloAv.  This  peculiarity  in  the  lacing 
is  one  of  the  most  obvious  differences  betAveen  Japanese  and 
Chinese  juid<s,  for  in  the  one  case  the  lines  of  the  sails  run 
vertically,  in  the  other  horizontal!}'.  HoAA'eAav,  thougli  belong- 
ing to  the  same  general  style  of  boat,  the  two  so  differ  in  detail 
that  they  can  be  distinguished  almost  as  far  aAA'ay  as  they  can 
be  seen.  The  Japanese  are  the  more  beautiful. 

Duly  respecting  other  causes,  one  may  draw  inferences  of  a 
nation’s  devotion  to  any  pursuit  by  the  Avealth  or  jmvei  ty  of  the 
nomenclature  on  the  subject.  Both  the  Japanese  and  the  Korean 
tongues  testify  to  their  original  inland  origin  by  the  paucity  of 


CHEMULPO. 


47 


nautical  names.  Boats  are  classed,  witli  touching  simplicity, 
as  “boats”  and  “little  boats.”  No  discrimination  is  paid  to  the 
means  of  propulsion  ; and  as  for  form,  the  one  kind  differs  from 
the  other  only  as  an  adult  specimen  differs  from  the  young. 
The  stern  of  these  craft  is  high,  and  the  bow  low.  At  a distance 
the  effect  is  to  reverse  the  apparent  motion  to  our  eyes,  accus- 
tomed to  the  opposite  construction.  There  is,  however,  a good 
reason  for  the  seeming  inversion.  Their  build  is  not  to  enable 
them  to  battle  with  the  seas,  — few  of  which  they  are  supposed 
to  encounter,  — but  to  give  the  helmsman  a better  view. 

As  for  the  Korean  sailors,  they  hold  in  appearance  a middle 
position  between  the  Japanese  and  our  own,  — that  is,  they 
neither  resemble  a set  of  old  women  nor  do  they  look  like 
tars  ; for,  of  all  incongruous  associations,  a Ja])anese  junk  and 
its  crew  are  the  oddest.  With  their  heads  tied  up  in  blue 
and  Avhite  cotton  cloths,  the  hardy  company  of  mariners,  en- 
gaged in  sipping  tea  and  jabbering,  suggest  to  the  stranger 
some  afternoon  party  of  grannies  accidentally  blown  off  to 
sea.  But  there  is  plenty  of  pluck  underneath  the  checked 
handkerchiefs.  The  Korean  sailors  look  for  all  the  Avorld 
like  their  relatives  on  land,  only  a trifle  dirtier. 

The  meaning  of  the  name  “Chemulpo”  is  “ various  articles 
river  bank.”  It  Avould  be  interesting  to  discover  whence  came 
this  name.  There  is  a Korean  tradition  in  regard  to  it,  Avhich, 
lioweA-er,  smacks  of  an  ex  post  facto  flavor.  A thousand  A’ears 
ago,  so  it  runs,  it  AA\as  prophesied  that  the  spot  Avould  eventually 
rise  to  be  Avhat  it  now  hopes  soon  to  become,  the  foreign 
trading-port  of  Korea.  The  prophecy  included  the  neighbor- 
ing magistracy  of  Inchon,  Avhose  characters  mean  “ the  ri^'er 
of  the  love  of  humanity.”  Owing  to  its  being  the  inagis- 
tracy,  it  is  the  place  mentioned  in  the  treaties.  Like  many 
another  figure-head,  it  dozes  in  indolent  seclusion,  wraps 
itself  in  the  name  of  office,  and  leaves  the  work  to  be  done 


48 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNIXG  CALM. 


by  inconspicuous  Cliemul2)o.  It  lies  about  five  miles  away 
over  the  hills  in  a little  valley  of  its  own,  and  it  is  almost 
too  small  and  insig'nificant  to  })resume  to  its  title.  It  rejoices, 
however,  in  a multitude  of  names,  — not  names  that  really 
differ  from  one  another,  but  something  after  the  familiar  Eliza- 
beth, Elsie,  Betsey,  and  Bess  fashion,  so  to  designate  it  for 
Avant  of  any  more  accurate  simile.  The  Chinese  character 
with  which  the  name  is  written  is  uniformly  the  same,  but 
the  expressions  of  it  vary.  Both  Koreans  and  Japanese  bor- 
rowed from  China,  many  centuries  since,  her  SA^stem  of  ideo- 
graphs, and  attempted  to  imitate  their  pronunciation.  So 
radically  different,  hoAvever,  Avere  the  tongues  of  the  borroAv- 
ers,  that  they  twisted  out  of  all  recognizable  sound  AAdiat  they 
took.  Under  this  metamorphosing  process  the  tOAvn  becomes 
either  Inchon,  Genchuan,  or  Jinsen,  according  as  it  comes 
from  Korean,  Chinese,  or  Japanese  lips.  You  may  hear  it 
in  all  three  forms  Avithin  a few  minutes. 

Chemulpo  itself  bears  a A’ery  strong  resemblance  to  a 
mushroom  AVestern  village.  It  is  in  the  earliest  stages  of  the 
hobbledehoy  period,  when  its  Avants  hxr  outstrip  its  capabili- 
ties. A feAV  shanties  hastily  throAvn  up  shelter,  temporarily 
the  small  Japanese  colony  and  the  handful  of  Europeans  in 
the  customs  service.  The  only  house  Avorthy  the  name  is  the 
Japanese  consulate.  It  stands  Avith  its  outlying  houses  in  an 
enclosure  formed  by  a high  palisade;  and  patrols  are  kept 
constantly  on  dut}",  for  it  is  meant  for  defence  as  AA  ell  as  for 
habitation.  It  is  but  eighteen  months  since  the  Japanese  le- 
gation fought  its  Avay  from  Soul  to  the  sea.^  Its  dead  sleep 
noAV  on  the  neighboring  hillside,  and  the  Avhite  stones  that 
mark  their  resting-places  stand  out  to  the  eye  from  among 
the  short  broAvn  grass. 

^ The  first  retreat  in  July,  1882,  is  meant.  When  this  was  written,  it  was  little 
thought  that  there  would  he  a second  so  soon. 


CHEMULPO. 


49 


From  Cliemulpo  to  Soul  is  a distance  of  twenty-seven  miles. 
So  it  is  called.  It  is  as  accurate  as  estimates  repeatedly  quoted 
but  never  verified  by  measurement  are  likely  to  be.  Like  the 
enchanted  valley  it  has  so  long'  been,  the  city  lies  quite  truly 
over  the  hills  and  far  away.  And  yet  all  these  ascents  and 
descents  profit  one  nothing ; for  Soul  itself,  though  utterly  se- 
cluded, withdrawn  even  from  a distant  suggestion  of  the  sea, 
lies  but  a few  feet  above  tide- water.  The  road  thither  — one 
of  the  main  thoroughfares  of  the  kingdom,  as  it  has  suddenly 
become  — is  only  a broad  bridle-path.  Horses,  chairs,  foot- 
jiassengers,  and  bulls  of  burden  share  it.  The  great  mass  of 
the  people  walk  ; officials  either  ride  on  the  ponies  of  the  coun- 
try or  are  carried  in  palanquins.  The  latter  is  the  commoner 
means  of  transportation. 

The  ordinary  Korean  chair,  or  palanquin,  is  not  comfortable 
to  European  legs.  Luxurious  as  it  sounds,  and  pompous  and 
dignified  as  it  looks  from  the  outside,  it  is  a hollow  sham.  It 
owes  its  name  only  to  analogy.  It  is  not  a chair  at  all,  but 
a square  box  on  poles.  It  is  an  empty  cube,  two  feet  and  a 
half  each  way.  The  box,  however,  is  fitted  up  to  cheat  the 
occupant  into  the  belief  that  he  is  in  a walking  room.  Lit- 
tle windows  look  out  in  front  and  on  either  side,  each  fitted 
with  its  tiny  pair  of  sliding  screens.  Into  these  are  let  still 
tinier  panes  of  glass,  two  inches  square,  so  that  even  in  cold 
weather  the  traveller  may  not  be  quite  cut  off  from  the  outer 
world,  should  he  care  to  look.  But  such  are  their  size  and 
position  that  he  must  peer  on  purpose,  or  he  sees  nothing. 
Commonly  one  feels  very  much  as  if  at  sea  out  of  sight  of 
land.  The  swinging  motion  helps  this  delusion.  Two  men 
carry  the  box,  and  divide  the  burden  between  their  arms  and 
backs  by  means  of  a yoke  Avith  straps  that  fit  over  the  ends  of 
the  poles  to  Avhich  the  box  is  fastened.  This  contrivance  not 
only  brings  their  Avhole  bodies  into  play,  but  affords  a pleasing 


50 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


security  to  tlie  carried  ; for  jostles  are  by  no  means  infrequent 
in  tlie  narrow  crowded  streets,  and  the  chair  iniglit  be,  and  often 
is,  knocked  out  of  the  coolies’  hands.  At  such  times,  thanks  to 
the  straps,  nothing  worse  than  a sudden  jerk  is  the  consequence. 
On  journeys  two  other  men  accompany  as  a relief.  Each  of 
them  is  armed  with  a long  stick.  It  is  their  duty  at  intervals 
to  insert  this  under  the  chair  and  lift  it  up  to  ease  their  fellows, 
lly  this  means  the  unavoidable  rests  are  less  frequent.  As  no 
warning  of  the  cliange  of  portage  is  given,  the  effect  is  as 
unpleasant  as  it  is  unexpected.  The  contrast  to  the  ordinary 
motion  is  very  much  like  that  due  to  coming  suddenly  on  pav- 
insr-stones  in  a carriag'e  after  a smooth  bit  of  road.  When  the 
rest  does  come,  it  is  an  even  chance  whether  carriers  or  carried 
are  the  more  tired.  European  legs  have  been  used  for  so  many 
generations  to  walk  Avith,  not  to  sit  upon,  that  AAhere  they  are 
not  considered  as  entitled  to  consideration,  comfort  is  out  of 
the  question. 

Tlie  scenery  betAveen  Chemulpo  and  Soul  one  might  describe 
as  Avanting.  It  is,  perhaps,  as  dreary  as  any  in  Korea  ; and  this 
not  so  much  from  the  great  underlying  features  of  the  land  as 
for  a dearth  of  pleasing  details.  We  may  find  difficulty  in 
believing,  after  Clifford,  that  sjiace  is  corrugated ; but  any  one 
looking  upon  this  portion  of  Korea  Avould  realize  that  the  earth 
certainly  can  become  so.  A sheet  of  paper  soaked  in  Avater 
and  then  suffered  to  dry  spontaneously  Avill  furnish  an  excellent 
example  of  the  profile  of  the  land,  for  the  surface  of  the  earth 
there  looks  as  if  at  some  past  geologic  epoch  it  had  been 
crumpled.  Range  after  range  of  hills  necessitates  continual  as- 
cents, to  be  reAvarded  only  by  immediate  descents  on  the  other 
side.  Expectancy  is  balked  by  the  certainty  of  a prospect  to 
come  exactly  similar  to  the  one  Avhich  has  been  left  behind. 
XoAv,  these  ranges  might  be  A^ery  picturesque  Avere  they  AA^ell 
Avooded,  but  they  are  not ; and  in  this  bareness  lies  the  un- 


CHEMULPO. 


51 


attractiveness  of  tlie  scener}',  — it  being  a treeless  region,  and 
one  deprived,  jorincipally  by  man,  of  Nature’s  covering-.  Above 
are  bills  covered  with  short  brown  grass  and  occasional  patches 
of  young  pine  ; below  is  a vast  checker-board  of  rice-fields. 
The  whole  landscape  wears  a dull  sombre  brown  hue,  relieved 
in  winter  only  by  the  white  of  tlie  ice  and  snow.  In  the  sum- 
mer time  the  rice  shoots  and  the  wild  flowers  give  it  something 
of  beauty,  but  when  these  are  Avanting  it  is  mournfully  color- 
less. To  one  coming  from  Japan,  the  contrast  is  most  striking. 
Where  color  is  so  essentially  a jDart  of  any  view  tliat  the  very 
name  for  landscape  embodies  it,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  few 
Japanese  Avanderers  hither  miss  their  loA*ely  land  ; for  their 
Avord  “ keshiki  ” (“scenery”)  means,  analytically,  “landscape 
color,”  and  Avliere  thoughts  are  turned  more  to  Nature  than 
to  man  in  admiration,  it  may  be  translated,  not  inappropri- 
ately, “ couleur  locale.” 

The  country,  thougli  in  no  sense  densely  populated,  is,  after 
all,  not  so  sparsely  inhabited  as  one  at  first  sight  imagines. 
Tlie  houses  are  deceptive  in  both  size  and  color.  There  are 
several  villages  scattered  along  the  line  of  the  road,  and  man}- 
more  a little  distance  from  it;  but  it  passes  through  no  large 
toAA’ns.  This  is  because  it  is  a neAAT  road.  Its  surroundins's 
have  not  yet  had  time  to  groAv  up  to  its  OAvn  imjAortance. 

xVnother  feature  of  the  country  is  the  absence  of  barriers. 
Generally  speaking,  there  are  no  stone  Avails,  fences,  or  other 
obtruding  marks  of  personal  exclusiA^eness.  Only  in  immediate 
connection  Avith  the  houses  themselves  are  hedges  or  Avails 
built,  and  then  only  to  enclose  a bit  of  hmd  peculiarly  do- 
mestic. For  the  rest,  the  eye  roams  at  Avill.  This  absence  of 
boundary-lines  is  due  not  to  the  fact  that  the  Koreans  do  not 
divide  their  land  individual!}-,  but  rather  that  the  land  to  be 
divided  is  of  such  a kind  that  prominent  marks  of  division  are 
not  only  unnecessaiy,  but  impossible ; for  rice  is  the  principal 


52 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


agricultural  product,  and  most  of  the  laud  under  cultivation 
is  laid  out  in  rice-fields.  As  these  are  under  Avater  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  year,  the  barriers  betAveeu  one  man’s  land 
and  his  neighbors’  subserve  the  double  purpose  of  di\dsion 
lines  and  causeAvays  of  approach. 

The  roads  in  Korea  are  of  the  poorest.  They  hardly  de- 
serve so  fine  a title.  They  are  simply  tracks.  They  Avere 
not  made  ; they  greAV.  At  least  they  have  the  appearance 
of  having  done  so,  and  certainly  no  labor  is  ever  bestoAved 
upon  them  after  they  are  once  started.  But  this  is  quite  in 
keeping  aa  ith  Korean  customs.  In  the  peninsula  nothing  is 
ever  repaired. 

Though  the  roads  are  not  much  of  a comfort  on  the  journey, 
care  is  taken  that  the  traveller  shall  not  miss  the  one  he  Avants  ; 
for  they  are  thoughtfully  provided  Avith  sign-posts.  A certain 
figurative  suggestiveness  is  universally  accoAled  to  the  sign- 
post. It  is  granted  a certain  personification,  that  it  may  seem 
the  more  naturally  and  vividly  to  convey  its  information.  We 
are  all  of  us  familiar  Avith  the  conventional  hand  that  Avith  stern 
inflexibility  indicates  the  road  Ave  ought  to  take,  but  a sign-post 
Avitli  a face  is  peculiar  to  Korea.  To  come  upon  One  of  these 
mute  and  motionless  guides  suddenly  on  turning  a corner  is 
someAvhat  startling.  The  face,  though  unfortunately  grotesque, 
is  a portrait.  It  is  the  portrait  of  a gentleman  or  of  a noto- 
rious malefactor ; for  accounts  differ,  and  the  portrait  does  not 
explain  the  character  of  the  original.  He  liA^ed,  according  to 
Korean  indefiniteness,  a thousand  years  ago.  Some  say  that 
he  Avas  a famous  general  Avho  gave  his  attention  to  opening 
up  the  country,  and  instituted  an  improA’ed  system  of  roads 
throughout  the  land,  especially  in  out-of-the-Avay  districts  (for 
the  eastern  provinces  Avere  at  that  time  trackless),  and  that  his 
effigy  Avas  taken  for  the  sign-posts,  to  commemorate  his  Avork,  — 
an  admirable  hint  for  redeeming  from  utter  Avorthlessness  some 


CHEMULPO. 


53 


of  onr  uglier  public  statues.  Others  affirm  that  he  was  a cele- 
brated criminal,  as  bad  as  he  could  be ; and  they  go  so  far  in 
evidence  as  to  narrate  his  particular  crimes.  To  deter  others 
from  following  in  his  footsteps,  they  add,  his  likeness  was  placed 
at  all  the  cross-roads.  There  is,  thus,  some  difference  of  opinion 
as  to  his  moral  character,  though  the  general  verdict  seems  to 
be  that  he  is  guilty.  But  everybody  knows  his  name,  wliich  is 
Chang  Sun,  On  the  lower  part  of  the  post,  which  will  pass 
for  his  bod}",  are  the  characters  that  represent  his  name,  and 
below  them  are  painted  the  necessary  itineraries. 


54 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOllNIiNG  CALM. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  JOUEXEY  UP  TO  SOUL. 

TO  travel  vitli  aiiotlier,  wliile  it  halves  the  seeming  length 
of  a journey,  shortens  at  the  same  time  the  road  to  that 
other’s  character.  The  first  day  on  Korean  ground,  dependent, 
as  perforce  you  must  he,  for  attendants,  if  not  companions,  upon 
the  men  of  the  land,  Avill  disclose  to  you  one  of  the  most  salient 
of  the  national  characteristics.  This  is  an  insatiable  appetite. 

With  the  native  means  of  locomotion,  the  journey  from 
Chemulpo  to  Soul  takes  a full  day.  Bound  from  the  sea- 
coast  up,  it  is  specially  important  to  start  betimes,  as  the 
city’s  gates  are  closed  at  nightfall,  and  an}'  one  reaching  them 
too  late  must  stay  without.  Disagreeable  as  it  is  anywhere 
to  arrive  after  dark,  here  the  precaution  to  avoid  doing  so 
becomes  a necessity  to  any  arriving  at  all.  In  view  of  this, 
therefore,  and  of  the  fact  that,  being  December,  the  days  were 
at  their  shortest,  and  tlie  time  at  our  disjmsal  reduced  to  its  mini- 
mum, it  was  imperative  to  leave  early.  Eveiything  had  been 
made  ready  the  evening  before,  and  there  Avas  no  reason  Avhy 
AA'e  should  not  set  out  at  a respectable  hour  in  the  morning. 

So  I thought  as  I fell  off  to  sleep,  and  so  I remembered  to 
haA'O  argued  as  memory  struggled  back  in  the  morning.  This 
induced  me  to  get  up. 

But  I had  reckoned  Avithout  my  Koreans ; and,  unfortu- 
nately, Ave  Avere  not  together.  The  Japanese  consul  had  kindly 


THE  JOUEXEY  UP  TO  SOUL. 


55 

made  me  liis  guest,  not  because  lie  Avas  Japanese,  but  ratlier 
because  lie  AA’as  not,  — at  least,  in  Avliat  prompted  the  invitation, 
his  mode  of  life,  — for  he  possessed  the  only  European  house 
in  the  settlement.  Tliis  Avas  the  occasion ; the  deeper  cause 
lay  in  his  great  kindness  and  hospitality,  Avliich  AA^ere  charm- 
ingly combined  Avith  diplomatic  astuteness  and  savoir  faire) 
Tlie  Koreans  ayIio  Avere  to  accompany  me  to  the  capital  had 
quarters  in  the  native  toAvn.  They  Avere  under  the  direction 
of  a colonel  in  the  army  and  a returned  refugee.  The  latter 
Avas  neither  personally  nor  politically  an  outcast,  but  simply 
a man  Avith  a history,  — one  Avhich,  as  he  told  it  to  me  later, 
broufrht  back  to  inemorA^  the  stories  of  the  “Arabian  Xi^lits.” 
The  minister  himself  had  gone  up  the  day  before,  to  report 
to  his  Majesty  the  result  of  his  mission.  He  Avas  to  send 
down  palanquins  for  us,  as  none  Avere  to  be  i^rocured  at  Che- 
mulpo. The  palanquins  had  safely  arrived,  but  still  the  Kore- 
ans tarried.  As  they  failed  to  come,  Avord  Avas  sent  to  remind 
them  that  time  does  not  stand  still.  The  ansAver,  both  in  letter 
and  in  spirit,  strikingly  resembled,  as  it  appeared  in  the  light  of 
after  events,  the  advertised  “ immediate  despatch  ” of  A’essels 
about  to  put  to  sea.  To  judge  from  the  reply,  Ave  Avere  already 
off ; and  yet,  somehow,  Ave  did  not  go.  The  language  lends 
itself  easil}"  to  such  pleasing  delusions.  One  hour,  tAvo  hours, 
three  hours,  passed  by,  not  Avithout  frequent  requests  sent  to 
the  Koreans  to  hurry  matters,  kt  last  the  cause  of  the  delay 
came  out:  the  escort  Avere  AA'aiting  to  dine. 

The  aA^erage  Korean  does  not  eat  that  he  may  liA’e,  but  lives 
tliat  he  may  eat.  This  vieAV  of  life  is  neA^er  more  painfully 
apparent  than  Avhen  one  is  about  to  set  out  on  a journey.  After 

^ In  the  Japanese  system,  the  diplomatic  service  and  the  consular  service  are 
not  rigidly  separated,  as  is  the  case  with  most  European  countries.  Japan  is  like 
the  United  States  in  this,  but  fortunately  unlike  them  in  that  her  representatives 
abroad  are  men  trained  to  the  position.  The  system,  in  fact,  resejnbles  that  recently 
adopted  by  France.  Korea  has  not  yet  reached  the  point  of  having  any  system  at  all. 


50 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOEXIXG  CALM. 


everything  is  in  readiness,  and  any  otlier  people  would  be  actu- 
ally on  the  road,  the  Koreans  sit  down  to  a slight  collation.  The 
uncertainties  of  travel  add,  to  their  minds,  a further  inducement 
to  so  generally  precautionary  a measure.  The  consciousness 
that  they  are  thus  sure  of  one  good  meal  and  that  they  may 
not  get  another,  sharpens  an  appetite  that  by  nature  needs  no 
whetting.  For  such  special  cause  is  never  in  the  least  important 
to  the  act.  The  idea  that  eating  can  be  looked  upon  as  a 
necessary  evil  is  foreign  to  their  conceptions  of  things  ; as 
they  practise  it,  the  act  is  usually  unnecessary  and  invariably 
considered  good.  To  most  Koreans  it  is  always  meal-time. 

Finally,  toward  the  middle  of  the  day,  they  appeared, — I 
am  afraid  their  repast  had  been  unduly  hurried,  — and  we 
started  off  amid  the  farewells  of  the  kindly  consulate  gathered 
in  force  on  the  steps.  Leaving  with  joy  the  holes  and  pitfalls 
which  may  eventually  grow  into  streets,  but  which  are  now 
only  dangerous  gaps  between  the  shanties  that  cling  to  the  side 
of  the  hill,  the  caravan  struck  into  the  path.  It  was  a motley 
assembly  in  personnel  and  equipage.  The  company  consisted 
of  a Chinaman,  a Japanese,  several  Koreans,  and  myself.  The 
means  of  conveyance  were  no  less  A'arious.  We  had  a horse, 
some  palanquins,  called  by  courtesy  chairs,  and  two  jinrikisha, 
— the  last  a species  of  large  baby-carriage  drawn  by  a man. 
The  jinrikisha  were  a foreign  importation  ; we  had  just  brought 
them  over  from  Japan.  They  were  among  the  first  to  arrive 
in  the  country ; and  great  things  were  expected  of  them  by  the 
Koreans,  who  had  learned  to  like  them  abroad.  But  the  roads 
in  the  peninsula  are  altogetlier  too  rough  — even  the  best  of 
them  — for  wheels,  and  the  native  coolies  are  perfectly  inno- 
cent of  the  way  to  handle  the  vehicles.  We  had  not  gone  a 
mile  when  one  of  the  two  broke  down,  and  spilt  the  Colonel, 
who  had  been  trying  to  look  as  if  he  enjoyed  an  uninter- 
rupted succession  of  jolts.  The  unfortunate  jinrikisha  was 


THE  JOUENEY  UP  TO  SOUL. 


57 


smashed  beyond  the  possibility  of  mending  on  the  spot,  and 
had  to  be  abandoned.  Then  the  horse  went  a great  deal  faster 
than  the  chairs,  though  his  jjace  was  not  such  as  to  alarm  the 
most  timid,  and  disappeared  in  the  distance  ahead.  To  my  own 
lot  fell  one  of  the  palanquins,  — or,  to  use  a more  descriptive 
word,  boxes,  — and  what  with  the  freezing  cold  and  the 
cramped  position  I soon  found  it  intolerable,  and  took  to 
walking ; whereupon  m}^  coolies,  left  to  themselves,  abused 
their  liberty,  and  were  not  even  to  be  seen,  so  far  had  they 
lagged  behind,  when  I bethought  me  to  vary  discomforts  by 
enteriim  it  ajjain. 

Amid  this  general  wreck  there  was  but  one  thing  that 
remained  praiseworthy.  As  might  have  been  exj)ected,  this 
was  the  commissariat.  From  Japan  the  Koreans  had  brought 
over  much  beer,  which,  with  kerosene  and  matches,  are  the 
products  of  Western  civilization  that  first  strike  the  native  fancy. 
Before  leaving  Chemulpo  they  had  taken  the  precaution  to  lash 
a couple  of  bottles  of  the  beer  into  each  chair.  These  gave  a 
well-regidated,  almost  militaiy  look  to  the  column  when  closely 
scanned ; but  then  the  leader  of  the  party  was  a colonel  in 
the  army.  This  admirable  commissariat  unfortunately  availed 
nothing ; for  in  losing  one’s  chair,  one  lost  of  necessity  its  con- 
tents, and  to  the  loneliness  of  desertion  was  added  the  misery 
of  being  cut  off  from  one’s  base  of  supplies. 

As  the  reader  has  gathered  from  the  description  of  the 
scenery,  there  was  a certain  monotony  about  it  which  turned 
one’s  attention  all  the  more  to  his  fellow-travellers  alonfr"  the 

o 

highway.  They  would  have  arrested  it  in  any  case.  From 
white  dots  in  the  distance,  they  developed,  on  a nearer  ap- 
proach, into  figures  clad  in  bluish-white  tunics  suggestive  of 
dressing-gowns,  black  halo  hats,  and  large  goggle  spectacles. 
There  were  plenty  of  them ; and  the  greater  number  walked, 
only  the  occasional  few  riding  on  horses  or  being  carried  in 


58 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKXIXG-  CALM. 


palanquins  like  our  own.  Otherwise  they  represented  all 
classes  of  society,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  Their 
long-  flowing  robes  suited  well  the  natural  dignified  slowness 
of  their  behavior.  Whether  it  is  the  quiet  temperament  that 
fashioned  the  clothes,  or  the  clothes  that  subdued  any  natural 
excitability  in  the  people,  is  a problem  resembling  that  of 
progenital  priority  between  the  egg  and  the  hen.  At  any  rate, 
the  two  are  now  in  complete  accord. 

To  suppose,  however,  either  from  the  temperament  or  the 
dress,  that  the  Koreans  are  not  a people  Avho  travel,  would  be 
a mistake.  Although  far-Orientals  are  slow  in  their  actions,  as 
compared  even  Avith  the  European  middle  classes,  not  to  speak 
of  energetic  and  nervous  Americans,  they  are,  in  no  sense, 
people  that  stay  at  home.  Travel  in  China,  Korea,  or  Japan 
surpasses  that  in  olden  times  in  Europe ; and  even  in  these 
days  of  travelling  facilities,  rapid  transit,  and  studied  accom- 
modation, the  practice  is  probably  quite  as  much  in  vogue  in 
the  far-East,  if  we  reckon  it — as  of  course  Ave  should,  Avhere 
it  is  the  spirit  of  traA’elling  Ave  are  considering  — from  the 
time  spent,  and  not  the  distance  traA'ersed. 

To  Avhat  causes  this  ant-like  activity  is  due  it  is  not  easy 
to  determine,  especially  in  Korea.  In  Japan  the  })ilgrims  fur- 
nish the  largest  contingent  to  the  travelling  class ; but  the 
pilgrimage  itself  is  more  of  an  excuse  than  an  end.  The 
journey  is  quite  as  much  a pleasurable  excursion  as  a re- 
ligious devotion.  The  latter  giA^es,  as  it  Avere,  a.  sanction  to 
Avhat  Avould  otherAvise  be  looked  upon,  hoAvever  enjoyable  it 
might  be,  as  an  unpardonable  Avaste  of  time ; for  it  is  princi- 
pally the  Avorking  middle  classes  Avho  undertake  it.  In  fact, 
most  of  the  pilgrims  belong  to  so  poor  a class  that  they  could 
not  afford  to  travel  Avere  the  journey  at  their  OAvn  expense. 
They  enroll  themseU’es  as  members  of  associations  to  Avhich 
they  annually  contribute  their  mites,  and  these  enable  a certain 


THE  JOUKHEY  UP  TO  SOUL. 


59 


number  to  make  the  pilgrimage  every  year.  A different  set 
are  sent  out  the  next  summer;  and  so  the  list  is  gone  through, 
until  eventually  each  member  has  had  his  journey. 

But  ill  Korea  the  travelling  public  is  differently  constituted. 
You  cannot  take  it  for  granted  that  those  }'OU  meet  are  the  pic- 
turesque transmutation  of  the  force  of  faith  into  the  energy  of 
action.  On  the  contrary,  you  see  here  the  result  of  purely 
secular  causes,  and  not  a reflection,  however  dimmed,  of  deeds 
which  shall  })rofit  hi  smcula  smcidormi.  Nor  are  the  white- 
robed  wanderers  principally  pedlers,  though  such  exist.  In 
addition  to  itinerant  hucksters  that  thrive  by  perambulating, 
the  world  over,  there  is  a large  class  in  Korea  who  journey 
either  for  pleasure  or  for  some  other  reason  than  trade  upon 
the  road.  If  we  define  a traveller  jiar  excellence  as  a man 
who  is  singular  enough  to  journey  for  his  good  and  not  his 
goods,  a large  proportion  of  those  we  meet  Avould  still  have 
a right  to  the  name.  In  the  first  place,  the  Koreans  are 
jiassionately  fond  of  scenery.  The  possessions  of  each  prov- 
ince in  this  respect  are  not  only  thoroughly  known,  but  they 
are  S3’steniatically  classified  and  catalogued.  A grove  of  trees 
is  celebrated  here,  the  precipices  of  a mountain  there,  the 
moonlight  falling  on  a pool  of  Avater  in  a third  spot,  and  so 
on.  Such  places  })eople  come  from  long  distances  to  see. 
Tlien,  again,  eveiy  year  it  is  fitting  to  Ansit  the  tombs  of 
one’s  ancestors ; and  all  Avho  can  afford  to  make  the  journey 
do  so.  Annually,  also,  the  literary  examination  is  held  at  the 
ca})ital,  and  students  gather  from  all  parts  of  the  country  to 
attend  it.  SeA^eral  hundreds  in  this  Ava^v  journey  as  manj" 
tens  of  hundreds  of  miles,  and  then  return  again,  the  greater 
part  unsuccessful  in  the  contest,  to  their  homes,  to  tiy  their 
luck  once  more  another  3’ear.  Lastly,  among  the  official  class 
there  is  a good  deal  of  promiscuous  travelling  hither  and 
thither,  either  to  get  a place,  or  to  keep  one’s  place,  or  to 


GO 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


wring  money  out  of  some  one  else  wlio  holds  a place  by 
threatening’  to  defame  and  oust  him  unless  he  pays. 

Tlie  travel  differs  in  one  respect  from  that  among  ns.  It  is 
nearly  all  within  the  limits  of  its  own  country.  Each  of  the 
three  nations  — Japan,  Korea,  and  China  — is  intensely  pa- 
triotic, and  cordially  dislikes  and  despises  the  others.  Con- 
sequently, in  olden  times  there  was  little  desire  to  urge  men 
abroad.  Besides,  they  Avere,  as  a rule,  too  poor  to  go.  To 
journey  to  foreign  lands  Avas  an  unusual  occurrence  until  West- 
ern nations  forced  themseB’es  upon  the  people,  and  by  shoAA’ing 
them  a little  of  the  luxury  of  Western  Avays,  gave  them  the 
desire  to  learn  more.  Nevertheless,  such  international  jour- 
ne}’s  liaA’e  been  umlertaken;  and  it  is  almost  proA^en  that  most 
of  AA’hat  AA’e  call  the  civilization  of  China  AA’as  imported  from 
the  Altaic  table-lands  by  Chinese  traA’ellers.  In  fact,  as  has 
been  elseAA’here  pointed  out,  the  more  AA’e  learn  of  the  past  the 
m’eater  Ave  discover  international  intercourse  to  have  l)een 

o 

among  the  old-time  nations  of  the  AA’orld,  in  spite  of  the  draAA’- 
backs  AA'ith  Avhich  it  Avas  attended.  But  such  journeys  Avere, 
after  all,  sporadic,  and  did  not  affect  the  general  restriction 
in  the  countries  in  question. 

In  consequence  of  this  spirit  of  travel,  the  roads  j^i’osent  a 
liA’ely  appearance  ; and  often  in  the  distance  a higliAA’ay  can 
better  be  made  out  by  the  peojde  aa'Iio  are  strung  along  it 
than  by  any  other  indication. 

The  custom  also  affords  a foreigner  an  excellent  oppor- 
tunity for  the  study  of  physiognomy;  and  it  is  surprising  to 
note,  under  such  conditions,  Iioaa’  quickly  you  pass  from  the 
stage  in  AAdiich  all  faces  look  alike  to  that  in  Avliich  you  AA’Ould 
never  mistake  one  man  for  his  neighbor,  though  both  might  be 
to  you  unknoAA’u. 

The  speed  of  a company  is  unfortunately,  like  the  strength 
of  a chain,  dependent  upon  its  Aveakest  member.  The  halts  of 


THE  JOUKNEY  UP  TO  SOUL. 


61 


the  palaiiquin-hearei’S  reduced  ours  to  an  average  which,  under 
the  circumstances,  became  little  short  of  agonizing-.  AVere  we  to 
arrive  that  night  or  not  1 And  if  not,  what  ? For,  on  inquiry, 
I learnt  that  such  a thing  as  an  inn  did  not  exist.  AA'hile  there 
was  light  there  was  hope ; and  with  hope,  vexation  of  spirit.  It 
was  almost  a relief  when  tlie  setting  of  the  sun  took  away  all 
doubt  with  him.  The  gloom  of  the  improbable  settled  into  the 
darkness  of  certainty.  AAT  were  not  going  to  reach  Soul  that 
evening. 

Experience  may  be  rough-  in  its  teachings,  but  it  impresses 
its  lessons.  I learnt  more  about  wavside  lodo-ino-  in  o-eneral  that 

«/  o o o 

night  than  much  study  in  some  comfortable  arm-chair  before  a 
good  fire  could  possibly  have  yielded  me.  To  begin  with, 
inns,  I discovered,  are  unknown  in  Korea.  This  may  appear 
surprising  at  first;  but  the  dearth  is  explained  when  we  consider 
for  a moment  the  constitution  of  society  there.  The  reason 
lies  in  the  absence  of  a middle  class ; for  it  is  to  its  existence 
that  we  owe  a patronage  which  has  evoked  not  only  such  simple 
inventions  as  inns,  but  those  more  complex  contrivances  with 
wliich  we  make  life  easy  to-day  in  our  own  part  of  the  world. 
AA  hen  that  class  which  as  individuals  is  powerless,  but  as  a 
class  is  strong,  wants  a thing,  it  gets  it  by  the  economic  force 
of  numbers.  Conveniences  are  provided  for  the  many,  Avhich 
the  wealth  of  the  few  fails  to  procure.  Xow,  an  inn  (one  of  the 
simplest  and  therefore  the  earliest  of  such  productions)  is  both 
impossible  and  unnecessary  in  a land  where  men  are  divided 
only  into  two  great  classes,  — the  upper  ten  thousand,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  lower  ten  millions,  on  tlie  other.  The  officials  are 
but  a handful  in  number,  but  they  are  Korea;  while  the  rest 
help  only  to  swell  the  number  of  the  population.  The  officials 
form  an  oligarchy ; and  when  they  travel  they  quarter  them- 
selves as  a matter  of  course  upon  their  confrh-es,  and  put  up  at 
the  various  magistracies  which  lie  along  their  route.  Thev  thus 


62 


THE  LAJsD  OF  THE  MORNIXG  CALM. 


get  tlie  best  the  land  can  give,  and  the  help  of  the  magistrates’ 
band  to  provide  amusement,  and  so  promote  digestion.  Ex- 
clusion from  the  privileged  few  engenders  a feeling  of  common 
brotherhood  among  the  masses,  so  that  when  they  journey  each 
after  his  kind  is  ofl'ered  hospitality  by  his  neiglibor.  The 
wayfarer  carries  with  him  his  food,  which  means  principally 
his  rice,  and  his  lodging  is  kindly  given  him  by  the  first  house 
at  which  he  is  minded  to  stop. 

In  keeping,  as  it  were,  with  the  military  character  of  the 
Colonel,  we  were  not  going  to  adopt  either  of  these  modes  ex- 
actly, but  something  which  savored  slightly  of  seizure.  There 
was  a house,  the  Koreans  said,  about  an  hour’s  march  ahead, 
Avhich  they  had  in  mind.  This  they  intended  to  make  their 
own  for  the  night.  The  weary  hour  slowl}^  dragged  along, 
till  at  last  we  stopped  at  what  we  were  told  Avas  the  place.  I 
craAvled  out  of  my  box  much  numbed,  and  entered  the  enclos- 
ure. Some  Avomen  aa  ere  tending  Avhat  stood  apparently  for  the 
kitchen  fire,  in  a side  room.  So  I sauntered  in  ; Avhereupon 
they  incontinently  fled,  and  this  in  s])ite  of  the  circumspect 
manner  in  aa  Inch  I flattered  myself  I had  looked  at  eA^erything 
else  AA’hile  intent  upon  them.  It  is  not  only  stars  AA’liich  can 
best  be  observed  b}"  looking  a little  off  them  ; and  the  edge 
of  the  retina  is  more  sensitive  than  the  middle  for  other  than 
])urely  astronomical  purposes.  The  precaution  Avas  not  ap})re- 
ciated.  They  regarded  me  as  a sort  of  tiger,  I Avas  told,  — 
flattering,  but  fatal. 

On  reaching  the  guest-room  Ave  found  it  already  occupied  b}^ 
some  inter})reters  of  Chinese,  on  their  Avay  to  Chemulpo.  At 
this  sad  discoA'ery  the  Colonel  Avas  seized  Avith  a \dolent  fit  of 
repentance.  He  at  once  began  to  reproach  himself  to  me  in 
no  measured  terms  for  the  pass  matters  had  reached.  lie  said 
he  Avas  bad,  A’ery  bad  ; that  it  Avas  all  his  fault.  Ilis  contri- 
tion Avas  touching.  I Avas  much  moved,  though  quite  convinced 


THE  JOURNEY  UP  TO  SOUL. 


63 


tliat,  on  tlie  return  of  a like  opportunity  to  dine,  lie  would 
exactly  repeat  liis  dilatoriness  of  tlie  morning-.  However,  re- 
pentance, if  not  efficacious  in  the  present,  is  to  a certain  extent 
an  effacing  of  the  past ; and  far-Eastern  politeness  finds  Avords 
much  cheaper  than  deeds.  At  all  critical  points  of  that  dis- 
astrous evening  he  repeated  Ins  would-he  expiatory  formula. 
It  finally  took  to  itself  the  similitude  of  a propitiatory  prayer 
to  inexorable  fate.  Apparently  it  had  as  little  effect  on  des- 
tiny as  it  had  on  me.  However,  as  in  duty  hound,  I protested 
tlie  entire  groundlessness  of  his  only  too  evidently  justified 
self-accusations. 

After  the  inevitable  slight  collation  which  filled  up  the 
aAvkward  gap  of  Avaiting  AA'hile  the  coolies  rested,  Ave  pushed 
on  ; for  there  Avas  another  house,  it  appeared,  AA’hich  the  escort 
considered  suitable  for  seizure  some  distance  farther  ahead. 
It  Avas  getting  eA^ery  minute  colder  and  colder,  and  by  this 
time  had  groAvn  pitch-dark ; for  the  night  Avas  cloudy. 

Wo  halted  a moment  to  light  our  lanterns.  In  Korea  all 
AA'anderers  abroad  at  night  are  required  by  laAv  to  be  furnished 
Avith  lanterns,  Avhich,  as  the}"  SAving  to  and  fro  by  the  motion 
of  the  men  aa'Iio  carry  them,  look  like  fireflies  flitting  about 
in  the  darkness.  A tallow  candle  is  enclosed  in  a AA'liite  paper 
screen,  and  this  is  dangled  from  the  hand  by  a string.  Some- 
times the  lanterns  are  given  names,  — an  honor  Avhich  poetry 
is  fond  of  bostOAving  upon  almost  eA^erything  in  tlie  far-East. 
lly  this  distinguished  attention  their  lustre  has  been  much 
diminished;  for  the  names  are  painted  in  large  black  charac- 
ters, through  AAdiich  no  light  can  possibly  pass.  My  OAvn  lan- 
tern Avas  significantly  entitled  “The  Bright  Moon;”  and  neA-er 
Avas  moon  more  needed  than  over  that  particularly  rough  road 
on  a cloudy  night.  It  took  three  characters  to  paint  this 
name  ; but  they  tried  to  make  up  in  meaning  for  aa  liat  they 
obscured  in  light,  for  tliey  represented  no  less  than  two  moons 


64 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKXING  CALM. 


and  a sim.  To  express  the  idea  of  brightness,  the  Chinese,  and 
co})}dng-  them  the  Koreans,  liave  found  it  necessary  to  outdo 
Nature.  She  considers  one  luminary  at  a time  sufficient  for 
2)urposes  of  illumination,  but  to  their  minds  it  recpiires  botli 
at  once  to  indicate  true  brilliancy.  So  bold  a conception  as 
a conjunction  of  the  sun  with  the  full  moon  did  not  deter 
tliem  in  the  least. 

With  the  darkness  and  the  lanterns,  the  caravan  took  on  an 
even  more  picturesque  apj)earance  tlian  it  had  Avorn  by  day. 
The  sliouts  of  the  men,  their  occasional  stumbles,  and  tlie  little 
earth-born  moons  hitting  from  place  to  place,  as  they  Avei’e 
specially  needed,  looking  in  the  distance  like  so  many  aauII-o’- 
the-wisps,  made  up  a scene  as  delightfully  fantastic  as  the 
march  Avould  otherwise  have  seemed  uncomfortable  ; and  the 
si<>-hts  and  sounds  came  to  me  in  the  interior  of  a box 

o 

swaying  in  its  motion  like  a ship  at  sea. 

In  spite  of  the  rugs  AAutli  Avhich  I vainly  endeavored  to  keep 
Avarm  my  legs  crossed  in  front  of  me,  my  feet  ached  Avith  the 
cold,  and  I began  seriously  to  consider  hoAV  much  longer  the 
thing  Avould  be  endurable,  Avhen  suddenly  the  SAvinging  motion 
ceased,  and  I AAvas  violently  set  doAvn  upon  the  ground.  There 
is  at  times  in  the  acts  of  ])alanquin-bearers  a resolute  abrupt- 
ness AAdnch  is  simply  startling  ; it  is  only  equalled  by  their 
more  usual  automatic  inflexibility  of  purpose,  — a dogged  de- 
termination that  is  beyond  praise  as  it  is  also  quite  deaf  to 
expostulation.  They  are  someAvhat  like  Avell-regulated  ma- 
chines Avhich,  once  set  going,  it  is  impossible  to  stop,  and, 
once  stopped,  take  forever  to  AAund  up  again.  In  this  case, 
for  once,  their  actions  coincided  in  intent,  if  not  in  execution, 
Avith  my  desires ; and  I Avillingly  emerged  AA’ith  some  diffi- 
cidty,  feet  foremost,  and  then  began  to  tranq)  rapidly  up 
and  doAAm,  in  the  hope  that  circulation  might  be  coaxed  into 
returning. 


THE  JOURNEY  UP  TO  SOUL. 


65 


In  tlie  mean  time  any  lingering  scruples  on  the  part  of  the 
owner,  any  reluctance  to  receive  us  that  he  undoubtedly  felt, 
were  being  calmly  set  aside,  and  we  were  asked  to  enter. 
Passing  through  a doorway  in  a wall  of  mud,  we  found  our- 
selves in  the  courtyard.  Tlie  night  was  so  dark  that  the 
buildings  which  surrounded  it  could  hardly  be  made  out 
against  the  sk}\  In  the  midst  of  this  cavernous  enclosure 
several  figures  were  bustling  about,  revealed  in  silhouette  by 
a lurid  glow  that  came  apparently  out  of  a hole  in  the  ground. 
Into  this  hole  the  figures  were  busily  engaged  in  stuffing 
brushwood.  The  subterranean  crater  and  its  attendant  de- 
mons were  all  that  was  to  be  seen.  It  argued  for  the  warmtli 
of  Korean  hospitality,  but  it  vividly  suggested  the  jaws  of  some 
infernal  region.  It  was  called,  in  Korean,  not  inappropriately, 
“ the  mouth.”  It  turned  out  to  be,  inoffensively  enough,  the 
opening  to  the  khan,  a sort  of  underground  furnace,  whose 
flues  take  the  place  of  basement  to  a house,  and  are  made  of 
such  materials  — stone  and  wood  — that  the  floor  above,  once 
heated,  is  kept  warm  during  the  niglit.  The  men  were  at 
tliat  moment  heating  it  up  for  us.  The  room  on  top  of  it 
was  in  this  case  exceedingly  small,  — a mere  little  cell,  about 
eight  feet  square,  and  having  for  apertures  only  a small  door 
and  a tiny  hole  completely  covered  over  with  oil-paper,  so 
that  very  little  light  at  any  time,  and  absolutely  no  air,  could 
enter  through  it. 

Supper,  such  as  it  was  to  be,  was  preparing ; and  in  the 
mean  time  my  young  Japanese  and  I squatted  on  the  floor 
of  the  cell,  — for  there  are  no  chairs  in  a Korean  house,  — 
wrapped  ourselves  in  our  robes,  and,  longing  for  the  earth 
beneath  to  heat,  already  felt  a trifle  warmer  by  anticipation, 
but  for  any  material  change  waited  for  a long  time  in  vain. 
At  last,  after  repeatedly  feeling  carefully  all  parts  of  the 
flooring,  we  discovered  a slight  increase  in  the  temperature 

5 


GG 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


of  one  corner.  From  tliis  corner,  the  one  nearest  to  the  fire 
without,  the  change  slowly  spread  till  every  part  of  the  oil- 
paper, which  lined  the  stone  beneath,  had  become  Avarm  to 
the  touch.  From  the  floor  the  heat  Avas  communicated  to  the 
air,  and  Ave  began  to  throAV  aside  our  wraps,  one  by  one ; and 
by  the  time  supper  Avas  oAmr  and  Ave  were  ready  to  go  to  sleep, 
the  room  had  become  quite  comfortable.  Relying  upon  things 
remaining  as  they  Avere  Avhile  Ave  slept,  and  ignorant  of  the 
character  of  the  demon  Ave  had  eAmked,  Ave  dozed  off ; but 
oblivion  Avas  short-liA’ed.  It  Avas  not  long  before  I aAvoke 
Avitli  a start  to  find  myself  in  an  atmosphere  like  the  inside 
of  a furnace.  The  heat  Avas  stifling.  I scrambled  to  the 
door,  threAv  it  open,  and  tried  to  breathe ; but  the  doorway 
Avas  A^ery  small,  and  instead  of  leading  into  the  open  air,  it 
gave  exit  into  an  anteroom  open  only  on  one  side,  so  tliat 
the  A^entilation  in  consequence  Avas  almost  nothing ; and  the 
heat  from  beloAAq  instead  of  abating,  increased.  I tlireAv  off 
as  much  of  Avhat  Avas  still  left  of  my  clothing  as  I dared, 
Avith  the  air  outside  many  degrees  beloAV  tlie  freezing-point, 
and,  so  freed,  again  courted  sleep,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  I 
Avas  painfully  aAvake.  Then  I tried  science,  and  endeavored 
to  estimate  dispassionately  the  comparative  discomforts  of  in- 
tense heat  and  extreme  cold  under  my  exceptionally  faAmrable 
opportunity  for  experimentally  contrasting  the  two  Avithin  so 
short  a time ; but  feeling  OA^erAvliehned  philosophy.  I could 
only  cursorily  note  the  much  greater  sensitiA^eness,  as  a ther- 
mometer, of  the  foreign  OA^er  tlie  natiA’e  body ; for  Avas  it  not 
from  Korean  kindness  that  I AA'as  at  the  moment  profiting  I 
Perhaps  eA^en  this  generalization  Avas  hasty ; for  though  the 
Koreans  were  sleeping  quietly  enough  in  some  neighboring 
rooms,  their  comfort  had  not  been  so  particularly  looked  to 
as  mine.  I AAxas  the  Auctim  of  the  too  complete  fulfilment 
of  my  own  previous  desires ; for  I myself  had  unwisely 


THE  JOUEHEY  UP  TO  SOUL. 


67 


urged  them  to  feed  bountifully  the  flame.  Then  I yielded 
to  misery.  I reflected  upon  the  exceeding  vanity  of  human 
wishes.  I moralized  iijDon  the  universal  truth  of  our  obtain- 
ing in  this  ■world,  if  we  only  know  how  to  wait,  all  we  can 
desire,  and  sometimes  much  more.  And  then  I fervently 
desired  that  for  once,  at  least,  the  more  might  mercifully 
become  less,  and  I tried  to  imagine  I detected  symptoms 
of  cooling  off.  For  some  time  I failed  even  in  deceiving 
myself.  At  last  my  longings  were  fulfilled.  Owing  to  the 
men  whose  duty  it  was  to  stuff  in  the  brushwood,  having  long 
since  fallen  asleep,  and  the  fire  for  want  of  fresh  fuel  having 
now  been  extinct  for  some  hours,  the  constant  radiation  into 
the  air  and  thence  through  the  doorway  ultimately  produced 
its  effect ; and,  the  room  becoming  once  more  habitable,  I 
fell  asleejD. 


G8 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  ^kEOENING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  JOURNEY  UP  TO  SOUL.  — THE  SECOND  DAY. 

one  reflecting-  on  the  ntter  contrast  between  tlie  feelings 
tliat  enwrap  ns  witli  the  deepening  gloom  of  night  and 
those  we  inherit  with  the  birth  of  the  new  day,  it  Avonld  almost 
occur  to  doubt  a continuous  personal  identity.  In  the  gloam- 
ing our  sensitive  side,  our  feelings,  our  passions,  seem  to  awake 
to  a strength,  an  acuteness,  that  had  lain  dormant  during  the 
light.  For  joy  or  for  sorrow,  the  heart  measures  then  all  things 
by  itself  Rut  with  the  morn  awakes  the  thrill  of  being.  We 
feel  the  throb  of  the  life  w-ithin  us  that  answers  to  the  pidse 
of  the  life  without.  Action  in  thought  has  paled  before  the 
thought  of  action,  and  we  forget  our  world  of  fancy  in  our 
fancy  for  the  world. 

I stepped  out  into  the  clear  blue  winter’s  morning.  It  is 
not  altogether  a conceit  that  the  hour  to  see  the  Land  of  the 
Morning  Calm  is  tliat  from  which  it  took  its  name.  Of  the  two 
paintings  in  colors  Avhich  Nature  grants  us  every  day,  at  the 
o^iening  and  the  closing  of  it,  — for  all  the  rest  is,  in  her  chiaro- 
scuro, blue  and  green,  — the  sunsets  in  the  far-East  are  rarely 
fine.  As  for  the  sunrises,  whenever  I liave  by  accident  wit- 
nessed Aurora  arise  from  her  dewy  couch,  I have  been  so  over- 
come witli  her  roseate  blush  of  surprised  confusion  that  I felt 
like  an  impertinent  intruder,  who  would  better  have  waited  until 
he  was  expected  by  the  sun.  But  the  early  morning  hours  in 


THE  JOUEXEY  UP  TO  SOUL.  — THE  SECOND  DAY.  G9 


Korea  are  certainly  very  beautiful.  The  landscape  lies,  as  it 
were,  in  a trance.  A misty  haze  gives  a dream^^  look  to  the 
distance,  and  the  morning  seems  to  tarry  till  the  middle  of 
the  day. 

As  for  the  house,  — a work  of  man,  — it  had  lost  a good 
deal  of  its  picturesqueness  of  the  night  before,  seen  now  under 
the  scrutinizing  light  of  day,  and  stood  revealed,  I must  con- 
fess, in  much  plainness  and  more  dirt.  However,  as  our  ob- 
ject was  to  leave  it  as  soon  as  might  be,  appearances  did  not 
signify.  As  for  the  cell,  I will  do  it  the  justice  to  say  that 
it  compared  very  favorably  in  size  with  its  fellows  of  the 
same  rank  in  life,  as  I involuntarily  discovered  in  the  course 
of  the  next  few  hours. 

A Japanese  cook,  skilled  to  a certain  extent  in  the  art  of 
Pluropean  cookery,  did  the  best  he  could  under  the  circum- 
stances to  give  us  a breakhist.  He  had  been  imported  on  })ur- 
pose.  To  live  continuously  upon  native  dishes  anywhere  in  the 
far-East  is  to  almost  all  foreigners  disagreeable,  not  to  say  inju- 
rious. To  banquet  after  that  fashion  occasionally  is  one  thing, 
and  to  adopt  it  as  a steady  form  of  diet  a very  different  matter. 
In  the  former  case  you  get,  in  the  first  place,  the  best  of  its 
kind  ; and  then,  if  one  dish  does  not  happen  to  please  you,  and 
you  are  hungry,  you  eat  all  the  more  of  another,  so  that  you 
end,  as  a rule,  by  eating  too  much  rather  than  too  little.  After 
a little  familiarizing  practice,  a Japanese  feast,  even  to  a Eu- 
ropean palate,  is  delicious.  But  to  eat  thus  for  a livelihood, 
not  en  amateur^  is  no  such  enjoyable  affair.  Even  in  Japan, 
where  the  experiment  is  tried  under  more  favorable  condi- 
tions than  in  China,  and  far  more  favorable  than  in  Korea,  it 
is  not  easy.  To  start  with,  it  is  usually  when  travelling  in  the 
interior  that  it  is  attempted ; and  the  inns,  though  as  good 
of  their  kind  in  Japan  as  anywhere  else  in  the  world,  are  of 
course  wanting  in  the  luxury  of  the  city  restaurants.  To 


70 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


European  culinary  ideas  of  essentials,  the  situation  is  one  grand 
negation.  When  we  say  that  the  cow  is  never  milked  and 
rarely  killed,  and  that  yeast  is  unknown,  Ave  express  the  facts ; 
hut  one  must  have  made  the  experiment  to  realize  fully  what  is 
meant.  It  means  no  milk,  no  butter,  no  cheese,  no  bread,  and 
in  the  country  often  no  meat,  and  sometimes  even,  as  a last 
deprivation,  no  eggs.  Life  resolves  itself  into  this  all-embracing 
question : To  which  of  the  two  great  classes  of  mankind  does 
the  traveller  belong,  — to  those  who  like  rice  or  to  those 
who  do  not  ? If  he  belongs  to  the  first  class,  he  can  just 
manage  to  get  a living ; if  to  the  second,  he  is  hopelessly  lost. 
As  a passing  tribute  most  justly  due,  I may  add  that  no  food 
I have  ever  seen  is  so  artistic  and  beautiful  to  look  at  as 
the  Japanese. 

Korean  cooking,  judged  by  our  standards,  and  also  by  as 
nearly  impartial  criteria  as  possible,  is  better  than  the  Japanese. 
The  Japanese  admit  it  themselves.  It  is  much  more  substan- 
tial, Unlike  the  latter,  the  Koreans  eat  a great  deal  of  meat, 
though  in  both  countries  rice  is,  after  all,  the  staple  of  subsist- 
ence, and  more  than  takes  the  place  of  Avheat  Avith  us.  But 
enough.  I am  becoming  like  unto  a Korean  myself,  and  prac- 
tise on  paper  Avhat  I liaA’e  just  held  up  to  opprobrium.  I 
reserve  Avhat  I have  to  say  for  a more  appropriate  occasion, 
for  all  this  has  been  suggested  by  the  lightest  possible  of 
breakfasts. 

For  the  moment  the  important  matter  Avas  not  so  much 
Avhat  Ave  ate  as  hoAv  often  Ave  ate  it ; for  every  stopping- 
place  Avas  turned  by  the  Koreans  into  an  extempore  buffet. 
When  Ave  had  time,  Ave  retreated  into  a room,  like  the  cell 
of  the  night  before ; Avhen  Ave  had  not,  Ave  took  our  refresh- 
ment al  fresco : but  we  abvays  ate. 

The  excuse  for  stopping  AAxas  that  the  palanquin-bearers 
might  rest.  This  they  Avere  obliged  to  do  eA^ery  mile  or  so. 


TPIE  JOUKNEY  UP  TO  SOUL.— THE  SECOND  DAY.  71 


involuntarily  furnisliing  us  u itli  a practical  exact  comparison 
of  the  superior  advantages  of  wheels ; for  in  Japan,  where  the 
kuruma  men  (the  men  who  wheel  the  jinrikisha)  draw  the  same 
weight  these  others  carry,  and  at  much  greater  speed,  — twice 
as  fast,  on  tlie  average,  which  means  four  times  the  exertion,  — 
they  stop  to  rest  only  every  five  miles.  This  woidd  give  us 
about  one  to  twenty  for  the  ratio  of  fatigue  of  the  two  means 
of  transport.  When  they  do  halt,  rice  and  tea  are  all  they 
take,  in  either  land. 

One  never  regrets  the  land  of  the  rising  sun  in  the  land  of 
the  risen  more  than  when  it  becomes  a question  of  motion.  In 
lieu  of  one  of  the  most  delightful  means  of  conveyance,  tlie 
jinrikisha,  — which,  with  the  hansom  cab,  is  in  some  sort  the 
poetry  of  transport,  — one  finds  himself  a prey  to  that  instru- 
ment of  torture,  the  native  box  ; for  there  is  not  a single  Avheel 
in  Korea.  The  thing  remains  uninvented.  That  veritable 
round  of  pleasure,  as  it  is  to  many,  has  no  existence  there.  But 
even  to  one  who  looks  upon  it  witli  impartial  vision,  simply 
as  a means  of  shortening  distance  and  devoid  of  itinerary 
delight,  not  to  have  it  at  all  is  as  great  a discomfort  as  it  is 
interesting  as  a phenomenon. 

Here  are  a people  who  have  never  reached  that  stage  in  prac- 
tical physics  where  the  immense  use  of  the  wheel  as  a factor  in 
transportation  is  discovered,  — indeed,  have  not  even  reached 
the  point  where  the  thing  is  invented  at  all.  We  have  not  here 
so  much  as  the  Church  and  State  phase  of  its  introduction ; for 
commonly  before  it  comes  to  be  honored  as  an  article  of  use,  it  is 
used  as  an  article  of  honor.  It  is  met  with  first  in  ceremonials, 
religious  or  royal.  It  figures  as  a car  of  state,  in  wliich  now  a 
king,  now  an  effigy  of  the  gods,  is  dragged  slowly  along  in  the 
pageant  of  procession.  As  such  it  existed  in  Japan.  And  yet  so 
little  real  acquaintance  with  its  peculiar  properties  does  this  be- 
token, that  when  a few  years  ago  the  first  wheeled  vehicle  for 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


72 

general  use  was  invented,  and  by  a European  too,  the  Japanese 
called  it  simply  a “ wheel.”  In  revenge,  as  it  were,  for  the 
neglect,  the  invention  has  thriven  exceedingly  throughout  the 
far-East, — this  ^‘man-power  car,”  as  the  Chinese  call  it.  One 
tinds  it  as  far  from  its  birthplace  as  Singapore,  where  it  is 
drawn,  comicall}'  enough,  by  the  laz}^  though  mercenary 
Chinaman,  and  yet,  thus  handicapped,  competes  with  horse 
and  carriage.  AVith  one  of  these  vehicles  still  struggling 
along  with  us  over  the  uneven  path,  we  emerged,  after  a 
couple  of  hours’  journey,  upon  the  top  of  a short  rise,  and 
upon  a view'  quite  out  of  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  hillock 
that  gave  it.  Beginning  at  our  feet,  and  occupying  not  oidy 
the  foreground  but  all  the  middle  distance,  lay  spread  out 
before  us  an  immense  plain  of  sand.  It  Avould  have  seemed 
limitless  but  for  the  ranges  of  mountains  that  rose  beyond. 
Scattered  over  its  surface  could  be  seen  black  and  white  dots 
in  irreornlar  files,  going  and  coming  like  trains  of  ants.  Thev 
Avere  figures  w'alking,  of  men  and  bulls  of  burden,  and  marked 
the  higlnvay  to  the  capital.  The  main  road,  never  very  Avell 
defined  at  best,  coming  upon  the  vast  sand  tract,  is  utterly  lost, 
and  sej)arates  into  filaments  as  a stream  in  falling  is  scattered 
into  drops  ; and  the  various  paths,  continued  by  custom  as  they 
Avere  created  by  caprice,  divide  at  Avill  to  unite  again  at  the 
ferry  at  the  further  end.  For  the  plain  is  the  bed  of  the  ri\'er 
Hail  in  the  spring-time  of  its  fulness ; at  all  other  seasons  the 
stream  folloAvs  a much  narroAver  patliAvay.  It  cannot  be  made 
out  across  the  sand ; for  it  clings  to  the  edge  of  the  bluffs  as 
if  fearing  to  lose  itself  in  the  sameness  of  the  Avaste,  and  its 
banks  on  the  nearer  side  are  sufficient  to  hide  it  from  AueAv. 
In  Avinter  it  lies  gathered  into  a deep  sullen  stream,  half 
asleep  under  its  coverlid  of  ice. 

It  is  called  at  this  point  the  riA*er  Han,  but  this  is  not  the 
name  it  bears  throughout  its  length.  Korean  rivers  remind 


THE  JOURNEY  UP  TO  SOUL.  — THE  SECOND  DAY.  73 


one  of  the  oft  remarried.  The  same  stream  bears  a differ- 
ent name  for  every  few  miles  of  its  course.  Nee  Miss  Cold- 
stream up  among  the  mountains,  she  no  sooner  gets  into  the 
world  than  she  changes  her  name  for  another  given  her  by  the 
land  she  blesses.  As  she  flows  on,  time  and  distance  tear  her 
from  her  love,  but  only  to  wed  her  to  another.  And  so  it  goes 
on,  a new  name  taking  the  place  of  the  old,  until  at  last  she  too 
disappears  into  her  Nirvana,  the  sea. 

“ Han  ” means  “ Chinese.”  It  is  the  name  of  that  dynasty 
which  had  the  greatest  influence  on  Korea,  and  the  one  under 
which  she  first  conformed  herself  to  Chinese  thought.  The  Chi- 
nese, among  their  other  self-given  appellatives,  have  always  been 
prone  to  call  themselves  after  their  ruling  dynasty.  Most  natu- 
rally, therefore,  other  nations,  on  making  their  acquaintance, 
learned  to  call  them  by  the  name  they  gave  themselves ; and 
then,  getting  accustomed  to  it,  continued  its  use  long  after  the 
Chinese  had  given  it  up,  — a curious  instance,  indeed,  of  being 
more  conservative  than  the  most  conservative  people  in  the 
world.  It  was  in  this  way  that  we  came  to  get  our  name  for 
the  country,  — China, — from  the  Tsin  dynasty.  Tlie  Malays 
so  mispronounced  what  they  heard ; and  the  first  Europeans, 
imitating  them,  still  further  mangled  it.  With  Korea  the  case 
was  slightly  different.  Being  a neighbor,  and  also  for  centuries 
a tributary,  she  has  never  since  the  first  been  behind  the  age. 
Her  people  use  “Han”  as  we  might  have  used  “Tudor”  or 
“Hanoverian”  in  speaking  of  anything  English,  if  only  the 
ruling  house  in  Great  Britain  had  given  its  cognomen  to  the 
land.  The  name,  therefore,  carries  on  its  face  a histor}^  and  a 
date.  The  date  is  of  five  hundred  years  ago  ; and  the  history 
will  be  better  told  when  I come  to  speak  of  Soul  itself,  with 
whose  history  the  name  of  the  river  is  closely  bound  up. 

After  a most  wearisome  toil  over  the  sand,  which  seemed  to 
the  muscles  even  more  endless  than  it  had  looked  to  the  eye. 


74 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOLNING  CAL^L 


and  just  as  I liad  finally  made  up  my  mind  to  the  belief  that  a 
small  creek  at  the  place  Avhere  we  had  entered  the  expanse 
must  have  been  the  river,  — for  we  had  now  got  almost  under 
the  clitfs,  and  there  seemed  no  room  left  for  a river,  — we  came 
upon  it.  It  was  a sheet  of  ice,  through  which,  in  one  spot,  a 
})assage  had  been  cut  for  the  ferry-boats,  and  the  dark  green 
of  the  water  took  on  a more  brilliant  color  from  being  reflected 
from  the  pale  blue  transparent  ice.  The  river  was  evident!}' 
quite  deep  at  this  point,  and  the  banks  descended  somewhat 
abru})tl}',  even  on  the  side  away  from  the  cliff’s.  Although  it 
is  seventy  miles  from  this  point  by  the  river  itself  to  the  sea,  the 
tide  is  felt  many  miles  farther  still  up-stream.  This  does  not 
preclude  the  fact  of  a strong  current  Avhen  the  tide  is  out,  as  the 
rise  is  so  great  at  the  river’s  mouth.  The  ferry-boats  were  large 
scows,  flat-bottomed,  into  which  Ave  all  got,  — men,  palanquins, 
jinrikisha,  horses,  and  bulls.  It  Avas  so  primitive  a method  as 
to  be  eminently  democratic.  There  are  places  in  the  Avorld 
Avhere  one  Avould  not  be  OA'er-desirous  of  crossing  Avith  a do- 
mestic menagerie ; but  here  the  beasts  Avere  as  quiet  and  Avell- 
behaA'ed  as  any  of  the  other  passengers.  It  speaks  much  for 
one  side  of  the  character  of  the  people,  that  they  liaA’e  so  hu- 
manizing an  influence  upon  the  brute  creation.  This  is  a point 
in  Avhich  Ave  should  do  Avell  to  co])y  the  manners  of  the  far- 
East.  Our  very  nomenclature  points  to  a vicious  state  of  things. 
AYe  talk  about  breaking  in  a horse,  and  Ave  find  sometimes  a 
good  deal  of  difficulty  in  doing  so.  Y’^e  might  as  Avell  talk  of 
breaking  a creeper  Ave  Avere  trying  to  train  on  a Avail.  AVe 
alloAA"  the  animal  to  grow  up  in  as  nearly  Avild  a state  as  jiossi- 
ble,  and  then,  all  of  a sudden,  at  our  caprice,  he  is  expected 
to  become  tame.  No  Avonder  coercion  is  necessary,  and  no 
Avonder  it  rarely  Avholly  succeeds.  Throughout  the  far-East 
both  horses  and  cattle  — Avhich  means,  for  beasts  of  burden,  in 
Japan  both  coavs  and  bulls,  in  Korea  only  the  latter  — groAV 


KIN'l'.R  SUr.URI’.S  OF  SOUI 


THE  JOURXEY  UP  TO  SOUL.  — THE  SECOND  DAY.  75 


up  to  labor  from  tlieir  birth,  in  anticipation  long  before  it  be- 
comes a fact,  and  are  treated  with  gentleness  all  their  lives.  In 
Japan,  colts  always  run  beside  their  dams  on  transport  jour- 
neys ; and  thus,  from  the  moment  they  can  amble,  begin  their 
apprenticeship  by  learning  the  roads.  x^s  the}"  get  a little 
bigger,  a wisp  of  straw  is  tied  to  their  backs  to  simulate  a 
burden,  and  give  them  the  feeling  without  the  fatigue.  Ihen, 
as  they  become  stronger  still,  a real  load,  proportioned  to  their 
youth,  is  put  upon  them,  which  is  gradually  increased  as  they 
are  able  to  bear  it,  until  they  attain  adult  stature  and  adult 
habits  together. 

On  the  further  side  of  the  ferry  begin  what  may  be  called 
the  suburbs  of  the  city  of  Soul,  — a series  ot  detached  villages, 
gradually  consolidating  as  you  approach  the  city  proper.  1 hey 
are  the  river-ports  of  the  capital.  What  little  commerce  by  sea 
is  carried  on,  passes  through  them.  The  banks  ot  the  river  are 
lined  with  the  masts  of  the  native  craft,  like  a thicket  of  bam- 
boo ; and  when  a fair  wind  gives  them  a chance,  they  spread 
their  sails  and  sweep  slowly  down  the  river. 

Tlie  distance  from  here  to  the  city  gates  is  about  one  and  a 
half  miles.  Leaving  the  river  banks,  Ave  toiled  slowly  upward, 
now  through  narrow  lanes  between  the  low  mud  Avails  of  the 
houses,  — for  feAV  of  them  here  belong  to  the  better  class,  — 
noAv  on  raised  paths  between  the  rice-fields.  Men  and  boys 
collected  in  knots,  and  stared  curiously  at  the  j^assing  proces- 
sion. Though  almost  hidden  from  \iew  in  the  inside  of  our 
itinerant  boxes,  some  lynx-eyed  loiterer  among  the  croAvd  spied 
the  one  strange  figure  Avithin  and  passed  the  Avord  to  his  felloAvs. 
The  less  curious  only  stopped  in  their  Avalk  and  turned  sloAvly 
round,  as  if  on  piA’ots,  their  eyes  remaining  fixed  on  the  moA-- 
ing  sight ; AA-hile  the  more  inquisitive  and  audacious  made  no 
scruple  to  bend  doAvn  and  peer  in,  sometimes  almost  thrusting 
their  heads  inside  the  box  itself  In  spite  of  being  thus  a prey 


76 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  3IOEXIXG  CALM. 


to  curiosity,  tlieir  demeanor  was  dignified,  much  more  so  than 
would  liave  been  true  in  Japan,  and  slightly  better  even  than 
in  China ; and  though  they  differed  in  expression  somewhat,  I 
cannot  say  that  I think  them  either  more  inquisitive  or  ruder 
than  is  the  case  at  home. 

The  trail  gradually  became  steeper,  entered  a defile,  and 
passing  through  a cut  in  the  hills  emerged  upon  other  suburbs 
more  densely  populated  than  those  below.  The  travel  in- 
creased, the  houses  thickened  ; we  turned  a corner,  and  the 
great  walled  city  of  Korea  lay  spread  out  at  our  feet. 

I have  seen  sights  as  beautiful,  as  strange,  before ; but 
1 never  beheld  anything  that  so  completely  realized  the 
fancies  of  my  boyish  dreams  as  what  I stood  gazing  upon 
then.  There  they  all  lay  spread  out  before  me  as  if  con- 
jured up  to  life,  — the  imaginations  of  the  time  when,  as  a 
lad,  my  thoughts  sped  aAvay  from  the  pages  of  the  “ Ara- 
bian Nights”  to  the  dreamy  Orient.  In  front  of  me  rose  the 
south  gate,  — by  name,  “ The  Gate  of  Everlasting  Ceremony,” 
— one  of  the  eight  clasps  of  the  city’s  girdle,  On  either 
hand  stretched  a crenellated  wall,  encircling  as  with  an  arm 
the  spot  it  loved.  Protected  within,  nestling  to  it  for  safety 
from  without,  huddled  the  low  one-storied  houses,  — a sea  of 
roofs,  some  tiled,  some  thatched.  I seemed  to  recognize  the 
very  spot  where  the  princess  of  my  youth  was  let  over  the 
wall  and  made  good  her  escape.  I saw  the  house  where 
the  robbers  rendezvoused  on  the  night  before  the  deed.  Ihe 
men  I descried  walking  about,  bore  the  look  of  those  with 
whose  lives  the  old  tales  had  made  me  familiar.  It  was  all 
there  before  me.  It  was  all  real,  and  I was  myself  an  actor 
in  the  scene. 

Entranced,  oblivious,  I was  at  last  roused  from  my  reverie 
by  a voice  at  my  side  begging  me  to  enter  my  palanquin  ; for 
it  was  highly  undignified,  it  pleaded,  to  walk  where  one  could 


THE  JOURNEY  UP  TO  SOUL.  — THE  SECOND  DAY.  77 


be  observed.  I acquiesced  ; and  as  I stepped  inside,  felt  as 
if  the  act  was  in  some  sort  an  entrance  to  the  life  of  which 
it  unavoidably  shut  out  the  vision. 

We  descended,  a few  hundred  yards,  into  the  thick  of  the 
throng,  and  amid  the  bustle  of  pedestrians,  palanquins,  and 
bulls  of  burden, — the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide  of  Korean 
life,  — were  carried  through  the  southern  gateway  of  Soul. 


78 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  ENTEY  INTO  SOUL. 

ONCE  tlirougli  the  gate,  I found  m3"self  in  the  midst  of  one 
of  the  main  thoroughfares  of  the  city.  The  street  was 
thronged.  Men  in  crowds,  clad  in  their  Avhite-flowing  robes, 
Avere  sloAAd^^  passing  to  and  fro.  There  AA-as  the  appearance  of 
being  busy,  AAnthont  any  of  its  hurry.  The  greater  number 
AA'ere  moAuug,  but  their  motions  Avere  sIoaa'  and  dignified.  There 
AA’as  bustle,  too,  after  its  kind,  ^^et  all  Avithout  speed.  Bulls  of 
burden  plodded  along  in  the  centre  of  the  road ; aa  Idle  eA’ery 
noAv  and  then  some  horse  Avith  his  rider  andjled  by,  giAung  to 
the  AA'hole,  by  contrast,  a seeming  dash  of  liA’eliness.  Pedes- 
trians journeyed  more  particularly  on  the  sides,  yet  there  Avere 
plenty  of  them  in  the  middle ; nor  aauis  there  any  line  of 
demarcation  betAV'een  the  tAA^o  kinds  of  traA-el,  — no  sideAA’alk 
to  separate  man  from  beast.  One  leA’el  breadth,  the  street 
stretched  from  booth  to  booth.  O11I3"  just  as  it  touched  the 
houses,  AA^as  tliere  anj"  break  in  its  unifornnty.  B3'  the  side 
of  these  ran  a narroAv  ditch,  half  gutter,  half  moat.  Tlie  athiir  is 
probabty"  related  to  both  ideas.  It  is  iioaa'  certainl}’  used  as  a 
gutter,  and  it  AA^as  in  all  probability  descended  from  a species 
of  ancestral  moat ; for  both  here  and  in  Japan,  AAdiere  the  same 
thing  exists,  it  has  A^ery  much  the  look  of  one.  Tins  gutter  AA'as 
hidden  from  vieAA',  in  the  street  through  AAduch  aa'O  AA'ere  being 
carried,  b}^  the  roAA's  of  booths  AAdiich  occupied  the  side  of  the 


THE  ENTRY  INTO  SOUL. 


79 


liigliway ; for,  wide  as  tlie  street  looked  now,  it  was,  in  fact, 
much  wider  still.  Nor  was  it  so  crooked  as  it  appeared.  This 
effect,  again,  was  due  to  the  booths.  These  booths  were  for 
the  greater  part  small  open-air  shops.  As  they  were  as  large 
as  the  houses,  or  nearly  so,  and  were  permanent,  not  temporary 
structures,  it  was  not  till  some  time  afterwards  that  I learnt  that 
they  were  only  intruders.  Each  stood  by  itself,  and  without 
the  slightest  regard  to  the  position  of  its  neighbors.  The  only 
rule  seemed  to  be  that  they  should  not  encroach  too  far  upon 
tlie  thoroughfare.  The  highway  was  very  much  like  a river 
with  a superabundance  of  islands  in  it,  and  the  current  kept 
tlie  centre  of  the  stream  clear.  This  trespassing  upon  the  pub- 
lic domain  is  common  to  most  of  the  wider  streets.  They  were 
left  so  broad,  originally,  that  the  people  deemed  them  a waste  of 
space,  and  have  appropriated  a part  of  them  to  individual  uses. 
In  ordinary  times  the  practice  has  been  no  hindrance  to  travel ; 
for  the  street  is  really  sufficient  for  its  purposes,  as  it  is.  But 
every  now  and  then  the  king  decides  ipDon  a promenade,  and 
then  there  is  no  room  for  the  royal  procession.  On  such  occa- 
sions the  booths  are  all  taken  away,  and  the  street  SAvept  and 
garnished  of  the  artificially  groAvn  fungus.  The  next  day  they 
all  make  their  appearance  again,  as  if  nothing  had  happened  to 
disturb  them.  A short  time  ago,  a minister,  imbued  Avith  the 
spirit  of  reform,  issued  an  edict  abolishing  the  century-sanc- 
tioned squatters.  But  the  measure  Avas  so  unpopular  that  it 
had  to  be  revoked.  Even  in  so  doAvntrodden  a people  as  the 
despotically  ruled  Koreans  there  Avas  still  enougli  of  humanity 
left  to  resent  being  made  tidy.  Who  has  not  felt  the  same 
intense  aversion  to  having  his  littered  room  put  in  order  for 
him  f 

MeaiiAAdiile  Ave  went  on  and  on,  until  it  seemed  to  me  that  the 
city  Avas  interminable.  That  the  vieAV  I got  of  it  Avas  through 
the  tiny  AvindoAvs  of  a box,  did  not  tend  to  diminish  its  apparent 


80 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOEXING  CALM. 


size.  Besides,  witliin  tlie  box  AA'as  the  old  discomfort,  — cold 
and  cramp  ; and  I will  confess  that  in  my  then  state  of  mind  the 
sight  of  the  inhabitants  did  not  afford  me  nearly  so  much  pleas- 
ure as  a glimpse  of  me  seemed  to  give  them.  At  last,  after  a 
couple  of  miles  of  street,  — as  I afterwards  discovered  the  dis- 
tance to  be,  — we  turned  sharply  to  the  left,  passed  through 
a gateway,  traversed  a court}mrd,  passed  under  another  gate- 
Avay,  and  entering  a second  courtyard  Avere  deposited  on 
the  ground. 

The  long  journey  Avas  ended.  I stood  Avithin  the  threshold 
of  Avhat  had  been  prepared  for  me  as  my  home,  on  this  the 
other  side  of  our  globe. 

But  though  I had  crossed  tAvo  thresholds  alread}",  I Avas 
destined  to  pass  over  seA'eral  more,  Avind  in  and  out  through 
a labyrinth  of  buildings,  and  finally  ascend  a short  flight  of 
steps  before  I Avas  at  last  ushered  into  a handsome  room,  in 
Avhich  I Avas  invited  to  sit  doAvn.  The  request  aa'us  meant,  too, 
in  European  fashion  ; for,  on  looking  about,  I saAV  foreign  chairs 
and  a table.  These,  it  aftenvards  appeared,  Avere  given  a short 
time  before  to  his  Majesty,  and  had  been  sent  from  the  palace 
to  furnish  the  house.  The  escort  then  produced  a box  of  Euro- 
pean biscuit,  and  opened  some  beer.  Everybody  gave  me  a 
Avarm  AA'elcome,  but  no  fire.  I sat,  smiled,  and  shivered.  My 
good  hosts  Avere  to  all  appearances  insensible  to  cold.  Later, 
on  donning  their  dress,  I discoA^ered  the  reason.  Of  course,  tea 
Avas  served  to  us  at  once,  and  the  subterranean  OA*en  Avas  imme- 
diately kindled  ; but  it  Avas  a long  time  before  I could  SAvalloAV 
the  one  for  its  heat,  or  feel  the  effects  of  the  other  for  the  Avant 
of  it. 

The  sliding-doors,  being  negligently  left  open,  contributed 
nothing  to  an  increase  in  the  temperature  of  the  room.  When 
I began  to  get  the  reins  of  household  government  into  my  OAvn 
hands,  on  the  following  day,  I suggested  that  they  should  be 


THE  EXTEY  IXTO  SOUL. 


81 


kept  shut.  Those  appointed  to  see  to  my  comfort  replied  that 
they  would  do  all  in  their  power  to  have  it  so,  but  that  they 
very  much  doubted  their  ability  to  succeed ; for  the  servants, 
they  said,  were  not  in  the  habit  of  paying  the  subject  any 
attention,  and  it  would  be  impossible  to  train  them  to  it.  It  is, 
at  times,  a disheartening  truth  that  doors  in  Korea  are  made 
rather  for  the  purpose  of  being  opened  than  shut ; and  that 
servants  are  servants  only  in  name. 

House-warming  (here  most  literally  applied)  well  begun,  I 
was  conducted  over  the  rambling  collection  of  houses  which 
was  to  be  mine  as  long  as  I chose  to  remain  in  it.  It  was  a 
set  of  buildiiif^s  so  connected  as  to  g-ive  the  idea  of  a suite  of 
rooms  seen  from  within  and  a suite  of  houses  looked  at  from 
M'ithout.  It  was  known  as  the  Guest-house  of  the  Foreio-n 
Office.  This  was  a recent  title.  Before  this  it  had  belono’ed 

O 

in  turn  to  various  Koreans ; among  the  last,  to  Min,  the  pres- 
ent court  favorite.  It  had  almost  as  many  gardens  and  courts 
as  it  had  buildings,  and  one  might  easily  have  lost  himself 
while  still  strictly  within  the  limits  of  his  own  dwelling.  As 
to  the  whole  compound,  of  Avhich  it  formed  the  northeastern 
corner,  there  was  so  much  of  it  that  simply  to  enumerate  the 
parts  would  be  an  unpardonable  presumption  upon  the  reader’s 
patience.  By  the  time  I had  mastered  its  intricacies,  I had 
learnt  the  rest  of  Soul  pretty  well  by  heart. 

As  for  the  interior,  it  was  furnished  partly  from  roval  and 
Foreign  Office  loans,  and  partly  from  native  attempts  to  copy* 
foreign  descriptions.  Besides  the  chairs  and  tables  above-men- 
tioned, there  were  some  wooden  wash-stands,  made  in  Korea,  — 
the  hasty  inventions  of  genius.  Then  there  was  my  bedstead. 
It  might,  with  more  propriety,  be  described  as  a bed-instead. 
It  was  a rectangular  box,  made  of  pasteboard  and  thin  strips  of 
wood,  about  a foot  high.  On  this  was  spread  a futon,  or  quilt, 
upon  which  I laid  my  sheets  and  blankets.  These  hybrids 

6 


82 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


were  the  welcome  to  those  diplomatists  whom  the  opening  of 
the  Hermit  Land  had  brought  to  Soul. 

In  my  tour  of  inspection  I came  across  another  113’hrid,  — a 
most  singular  production.  It  was  a painting  on  one  of  the  walls. 
It  purported  to  be  a circular  opening,  to  give,  there  on  the 
flat  wall,  a vista  into  student  land.  It  represented  the  shelves 
of  a bookcase,  its  compartments  filled  with  the  helps  to  learn- 
ing. In  one  Avere  some  Korean  books,  not  all  rigidl}^  upright, 
but  leaning  against  one  another  as  if  overcome  by  the  Aveight 
of  the  Avisdom  the}^  contained  ; in  another,  brushes  in  marble 
stands  ; in  a third,  the  ink-slabs  ; and  so  on.  Trul}',  an  exim'i- 
mentum  horrihile  in  corpore  vUi.  It  Avas  evidenth’  the  chcf- 
(Vmuvre  of  some  artist  avIio  had  made  a Amyage  to  Shanghai 
and,  becoming  enamoured  of  European  art,  had  tried  to  re- 
])roduce  its  AA’orst  A’ariety,  prostituting  tlie  details  of  his  dailj^ 
life  in  the  attempt.  It  Avas  more  than  a relief  to  turn  to  the 
native  floAver-pictures  on  the  opposite  door. 

With  the  exception  of  the  feAv  pieces  of  furniture,  the  house 
AA'as  still  in  pure  Korean  garb  ; and,  for  a Korean  house,  it  Avas 
a A’eiy  rich  one.  There  Avere  scattered  througli  it  tlie  usual 
painted  scenes  and  painted  panels.  The  interior  of  the  par- 
ticular house  Avhich  constituted  1113"  sitting-room  Avas  especialh" 
handsome.  The  Avhole  of  one  end  of  it  Avas  coA'ered  AA'ith  a 
picture  representing  a flock  of  Avild  geese  alighting.  A circular 
opening,  closed  Avith  sliding  screens,  — not  an  uncommon  form 
of  aperture,  — connected  Avith  tlie  rest  of  the  suite;  and  on 
these  sliding  screens  Avere  tAVO  paintings,  — an  oavI  in  the  moon- 
light on  the  inner  side,  and  a sort  of  triumph  of  a Korean 
Galatea  on  the  outer. 

The  makeshifts  of  furniture  seemed  like  intruders,  the3" 
looked  so  out  of  place  Avith  their  surroundings  ; 3’et  the3^  Avere 
the  foundations  upon  Avhich  the  best  of  native  intentions  AA'as 
to  rear  m3'  domestic  happiness.  The  desire  Avas  great,  but  the 


THE  EXTKY  INTO  SUUL. 


83 


means,  to  our  tliinking,  scanty ; for  tlie  servants  were  as  incom- 
petent as  the  appliances  were  wanting.  One’s  every-day  routine 
is  commonly  considered  sacred,  probably  from  being  too  dull 
to  tell.  It  is  a secret  which  we  jealously  guard,  because  Ave 
fondly  believe  that  to  be  distinctive  of  ourselves  Avhich  a mo- 
ment’s thoujyht  would  teach  us  to  be  the  common  heirloom 
of  mankind.  But  in  this  case  the  situation  had  in  it  somethinor 

o 

original.  The  mode  Avas  not  a routine,  Ijiit  an  experiment.  It 
Avas  neither  Korean  simplicity  nor  European  luxury.  It  Avas  a 
sort  of  cross  betAveen  the  tAvo,  — one  peculiar  to  the  time  and 
2)lace,  — AA'liich,  in  its  exact  details,  Avill  probably  neA^er  be 
repeated.  I may  be  said  to  luiA^e  liA^ed  on  im^entions  of  native 
ingenuity,  and  to  ha\’e  tasted  dishes  Avhich,  on  the  part  of  the 
cook,  Avere  experiments  justified  only  by  success;  for  he  Avas  as 
neAv  to  the  ingredients  as  I Avas  myself.  lie  Avas  forever  getting 
hold  of  something  strange,  and  trying  his  hand  on  it ; and  I 
must  say  his  talent  Avas  equal  to  the  emergency.  As  I have 
said,  he  Avas  a Nagasaki  man,  Avhom  the  Koreans  had  brought 
over  for  me  from  Japan.  He  proved  to  be  a jeAvel.  x\t  first 
he  seemed  homesick,  and  inquired  anxiously  hoAv  long  it  Avould 
be  before  Ave  sailed.  But  the  Jap  is  Avily.  He  Avas  eager  for 
departure,  not  that  he  might  return  to  his  native  land,  but 
because  he  had  conceived  the  ambitious  project  of  foundino- 
the  first  foreign  restaurant  in  Soul.  But  he  neA^er  volunteered 
this  to  me,  and  only  acknoAvledged  the  intention  AAdien  directly 
taxed  Avith  it,  on  the  occasion  of  bidding  me  good-by  at  the 
sea-coast,  months  after,  though  he  Avas  about  to  stay  behind 
in  Korea  for  the  purpose.  I had  learnt  the  fact  from  one 
Avho  had  made  him  offers  for  the  future,  Avhich  the  man  had 
refused.  So  I left  him  at  Cliemulpo.  Whether  he  carried 
out  his  scheme,  and  AA'hether,  if  he  did,  he  siuwiA’ed  the  mas- 
sacres of  the  next  December,  I never  heard.  But  he  Avas  a 
£TOod  servant  to  me. 


84 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING 


CALM. 


All  the  other  servants  were  Korean.  There  were  so  many 
of  them  that  I never  so  much  as  took  the  pains  to  learn  the 
names  of  more  than  one  or  two ; and  I never  was  sure  of  their 
exact  number. 

Details  of  one’s  household  arrangements  sound  sadly  out  of 
place  in  a description  of  the  charmed  valley  of  Rasselas.  There 
is  something  almost  belittling  in  our  modern  conveniences.  As 
for  the  feebler  minds  in  a community,  they  actually  worship 
these  expressions  of  the  mind,  its  images  of  wood  and  stone, 
tirndy  believing  that  they  are  thus  showing  their  superior 
nineteenth-century  civilization.  One  sometimes  wonders  how 
far  some  of  those  who  affect  them  the  most  patronizingly, 
would  get,  if  left  to  their  own  unaided  devices  to  originate. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a certain  grandeur  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  life  of  an  Oriental.  He  almost  rises  above  the 
body  by  neglecting  to  occupy  himself  Avith  its  momentary 
comforts.  Except,  perhaps,  for  his  peculiar  fondness  for  eat- 
ing, the  Korean  is  no  exception  to  the  general  rule.  How- 
ever large  his  house,  he  is  content  to  inhabit  but  one  room. 
He  sleeps  in  it  at  night;  he  eats,  studies,  and  lives  there  by 
day.  Thick  quilts,  upon  Avliich  he  and  his  visitors  squat, 
cover  a part  of  the  oil-paper  floor;  and  at  one  end,  facing  the 
entrance,  is  a Ioav  table,  eight  inches  high  and  not  much  wider 
or  broader,  that  holds  his  Avriting  materials.  For  his  life  cen- 
tres upon  his  brush : it  is  to  him  the  medium  of  expression  of 
both  those  arts  in  Avhich  alone  he  liA^es,  — painting  and  poetry. 
His  Avails  are  hung  Avith  pictures,  and  his  floor  littered  Avith 
books  and  rolls  of  Avriting;  for  he  is  ahvays  in  petto,  if  not 


in  fact,  at  once  artist  and  poet. 

Two  functionaries  Avere  appointed  to  look  after  me.  One 
of  these  lived  in  a part  of  the  suite  of  houses.  He  Avas  a 
colonel  in  the  army,  my  old  friend  of  the  escort.  His  busi- 
ness Avas  to  act  as  head  of  the  household  and  officer  in  charge 


THE  ENTRY  INTO  SOUL. 


85 


of  tlie  treasury.  He  Avas  as  good  and  kind  a sonl  as  ever 
walked  this  earth,  and  very  quiet  and  deliberate.  He  seemed 
to  radiate  a mild  glow  of  content  Avhenever  he  came  in  to  see 
me.  The  other  was  one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Foreign  Office. 
His  duty  consisted  in  periodically  visiting  me,  — once  a day 
on  the  average,  • — discovering  what  I might  Avant  beyond  Avhat 
lay  at  band,  and  seeing  to  its  fulfilling.  The  Sa  KAvan  — such 
Avas  his  title  — Avas  a most  celebrated  folk-lorist.  He  Avas 
admirably  adapted  to  his  temporary  office,  for  he  Avas  a born 
entertainer.  In  any  other  land  he  Avoidd  have  been  a diner- 
out.  The  stories  he  could  tell  and  the  legends  he  kneAA’  Avould 
fill  a A’olume  by  themselves.  Superstition  had  consecrated  him 
one  of  her  high-jAriests.  He  Avas  a consummate  Korean  my- 
thologist,  exce])t  that  he  believed  Avhat  he  narrated. 


8G 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENlJs'G  CALM. 


CHAP  T E R IX. 


A WALLED  CITY. 


HE  mime  “Soul”  means  simply  “capital.”  There  is  noth- 


ing veiy  original  in  this  name.  It  lacks  even  tlie  trifling 
merit  of  spontaneity.  Though  the  word  is  jiure  Korean,  the 
idea  is  borrowed.  It  is  an  imitation  of  the  Chinese  assumption 
of  peerlessness. 

To  an  inhabitant  of  the  Middle  Kingdom,  there  is  noth- 
ing to  be  compared,  in  dignity  or  importance,  with  his  own 
land.  The  very  name  he  gave  it  betrays  the  feeling.  He 
himself  stood  at  the  centre,  all  else  upon  the  outskirts.  Pekin 
and  Xankin  were  to  him  “ the  northern  and  southern  capitals,” 
in  all  the  dignity  of  sim})licity,  because  to  him  they  had  no 
peers.  In  copying',  therefore,  the  customs  of  China,  the  Kore- 
ans thought  it  fine  to  ape  its  pomp.  What  the  Chinese  had 
taken  for  granted,  they  must  needs  assume.  They  had  not 
the  blindness  of  self-conceit  to  plead,  for  their  own  model  was 
but  too  evidently  their  superior.  The  Japanese  did  the  same. 
The}'  were  even  more  ludicrously  illogical  in  their  behavior; 
for  they  did  not  so  much  as  clothe  the  idea  in  native  g'arb,  and 
thus  give  it  at  least  the  semblance  of  originality.  Tokio  and 
Saikio,  “ the  eastern  and  ivestern  capitals,”  are  not  only  l)or- 
rowed  in  thought,  but  the  very  ex|)ressions  are  mispronounced 
Chinese.  Thus  their  desire  to  seem  as  great  prevented  them 
from  ever  seeming  greater ; for,  in  lowering  their  aim  to  copy  a 
title,  they  necessarily  lost  all  inducement  to  surpass  it. 


A WALLED  CITY. 


87 


Soul  is  tlie  name  by  wliicli  the  capital  is  commonly  known  ; 
but  there  is  another  wliich  even  more  marks  an  intellectual 
dependence  upon  China  in  the  past.  This  will  be  better  given 
and  explained  when  we  shall  have  glanced  at  the  situation  of 
the  city. 

The  site  of  the  city  of  Soul  is  very  striking.  An  amphi- 
theatre of  high  peaks  almost  completely  encloses  a small 
circular  valley  two  to  three  miles  across.  In  this  little  valley, 
thus  cut  off  by  Nature  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  stands  the 
capital  of  the  Hermit  Land.  Round  about  towers  the  circle  of 
hills,  whose  slopes  on  the  one  side  seem  placed  to  give  pano- 
ramas of  the  life  at  their  feet,  while  on  the  other  they  form  a, 
barrier  against  the  intrusion  of  the  outer  world.  Their  bases 
rise  with  considerable  abruptness  from  the  little  stretch  of  level 
ground,  and  their  summits  are  fringed  with  crags  and  pinnacles 
that  continue  still  to  defy  the  levelling  forces  at  work  around 
them.  The  nakedness  of  the  land  — characteristic  of  this  part  of 
Korea  — here  has  a touch  of  grandeur  in  it,  and  the  bare  granite 
rocks  are  all  the  more  imposing  for  being  destitute  of  vegeta- 
tion. The. highest  peak  of  all  is  called,  in  Korean,  “ The  Three 
peaked  Mountain.”  But  the  French  named  it  better  when,  in 
18GG,  on  the  occasion  of  their  warlike  demonstration  against 
Korea,  they  had  it  as  a beacon  before  them  on  their  journey 
\ip  the  river.  They  called  it  “ The  Mountain  of  the  Cock’s- 
comb,”  as  its  jagged  peaks  flushed  red  in  the  first  rays  of  the 
rising  sun,  and,  like  its  namesake,  seemed  to  awake  before  the  ^ 
rest  of  the  world  to  tell  of  the  new  day  to  the  valley  still 
slumbering  in  the  mist.  Its  exact  height  is  not  known,  for 
it  has  never  been  measured ; but  all  that  there  is  of  it  is 
seen,  which  is  so  rarely  the  case  with  mountains,  — for  the 
valley  itself,  whence  you  view  it,  is  almost  on  a level  with 
the  sea.  In  winter  it  is  draped  in  snow ; for  its  peaks  are  so 
sharp  that  it  is  only  in  places  that  the  snow  can  find  a lodging 


88 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


and  g'listen  here  and  there  in  silvery  streaks  against  the  grayer 
rock.  Upon  its  slopes  tigers  are  said  to  abound,  and  leopards 
certainly  exist.  Its  foot-hills  are  composed  principally  of  a sort 
of  sand,  and  support  only  a stunted  species  of  pine,  -which 
grows  as  sparsely  as  it  grows  small.  The  formation  of  these 
foot-hills  is  most  curious.  They  resemble  ridges  in  the  sand 
of  some  sea-beach  which  is  tilted  at  a considerable  ang-le. 
They  are  due  partly  to  natural  formation  and  partly  to  the 
washing  out  of  the  rains.  On  considering  such  a mountain- 
chain,  — the  common  type  in  this  part  of  Korea,  — you  cannot 
help  thinking  of  some  past  great  passion  of  the  earth  Avhich 
has  burnt  itself  out  and  left  behind  only  a superbly  grand 
monument  of  ashes. 

Nearer  to  the  city,  resting  like  the  pinnacle  of  some  sup- 
porting buttress  upon  the  foot  of  the  Cock’s-comb,  is  the  North 
Hill ; and  opposite  it,  across  the  amphitheatre,  rises  the  South 
i\Iountain.  The  former  is  eleven  hundred,  the  latter  eight 
hundred,  feet  above  the  houses.  Both  are  Avooded  to  their 
summits,  — the  South  Mountain  heavily,  the  North  Hill  only 
scantily,  — and  both  are  equally  untenanted  by  man. 

So  striking  a situation  is  not  the  result  of  accident.  The 
city  of  Soul  is  a monument  to  the  last  dynastic  revolution 
in  Korea.  On  the  overthroAv  of  the  then  ruling  house,  it  was 
founded  by  the  successful  insurgent  as  the  capital  for  his  neAv 
line.  Each  dynasty  in  Korea  has  had  its  OAvn  capital,  much 
as  a private  individual  Avould  possess  his  own  house.  The 
usurper’s  first  care,  therefore,  after  seating  himself  on  the 
vacant  throne,  Avas  to  move  this  throne  to  a neAv  s})ot.  lie 
came  by  his  new  dignity  in  some  sort  accidentally.  lie  Avas  a 
general  by  the  name  of  Tai  Jo,  and  on  the  occasion  of  one 
of  the  many  iiiA’asions  by  the  Chinese,  Avas  sent  to  repel  the 
iiiA’aders.  Realizing  the  futility  of  the  attempt,  he  summoned 
a council  of  Avar,  and  announced  his  intention  of  treating  Avith 


A WALLED  CITY. 


89 


tlie  enemy  and  then  returning-  home.  He  did  so ; and  this 
led,  not  unnaturally,  to  a breach  between  him  and  the  king, 
which  ended  in  his  deposing  his  Majesty  and  reigning  in  his 
stead. 

For  Korean  national  interests  the  success  of  the  so-called 
patriot  was  most  unfortunate.  Might  as  his  judgment  may 
have  been  in  regarding  the  result  of  a war  with  China  as 
disastrous  to  his  country,  and  wise  as  it  undoubtedly  was  to 
make  what  terms  he  could,  his  subsequent  wholesale  ado2:>tion 
of  Chinese  customs  was  suicidal.  He  made  of  his  country  not 
only  a tributary  of  China,  but  her  intellectual  slave ; for  at  this 
time  swept  in  that  deluge  of  Confuciauism  which  has  swaiiq:)ed 
the  land  to  this  day.  For  centuries,  indeed,  Korea  had  bor- 
rowed, not  one  thing  but  many,  from  the  court  at  Pekin ; 
but  now  evervthino-  had  to  be  modelled  after  foreign  thought. 
The  results  wei-e  even  more  far-reaching,  as  we  shall  see  later, 
than  Tai  Jo  could  possibly  have  foreseen  or  even  hoped. 

Dazzled  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  dynasty  which  had  then  just 
begun  its  reign  in  China,  called  for  its  greatness  the  Ming’,  or 
“ Bright,”  he  did  not  hesitate  to  perpetuate,  by  the  names  he  chose, 
his  unbounded  admiration.  To  his  capital  fell  the  first  badge 
of  Sinicomania.  He  called  it  Han  Yang,  or  “ The  Sunshine  of 
China;”  and  such,  in  both  fact  and  feeling,  he  meant  it  to  be. 
To  do  this,  he  selected,  in  the  first  place,  a spot  which  Nature 
herself  had  fortified,  and  then  he  set  himself  to  add  to  Nature’s 
work.  iVlong  the  very  summit  of  the  mountains  he  built  a 
wall.  Here,  unfortunately  for  his  Chinese  predilections,  the  sar- 
casm of  destiny  willed  that  he  should  perforce  follow  a Tartar 
custom.  Vei’}"  possibly  he  Avas  ignorant  that  it  Avas  such.  The 
wall  Avas  of  the  same  kind,  indeed,  as  those  which  surround  all 
large  Chinese  cities,  and  has  its  most  famous  example  in  the  so- 
called  Great  Mhdl  of  China.  But  in  spite  of  a most  natural  in- 
ference, the  Great  \Yall  of  China  is  not  Chinese.  To  surround 


90 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


one’s  cities  or  one’s  country  ^Yitll  n ails  is  not  a Chinese  idea. 
It  was  a practice  brought  in  by  the  conquering  Tartar  hordes. 
To  them  are  due  the  hundreds  of  miles  of  barrier  that  defend 
the  Middle  Kingdom  on  the  north.  They  built  these  colossal 
ramparts  to  keep  out  their  own  kinsmen,  lest  the  latter  should 
follow  in  their  footsteps,  and  deprive  them  in  their  turn  of 
what  they  had  won. 

The  wall  of  Soul  is  imposing  in  itself ; in  position,  it  is 
wellnigh  matchless.  In  building  it,  difficulty  was  ignored  and 
height  forgotten.  From  whatever  point  you  gaze,  within  the 
cit}'  or  without,  it  is  one  of  the  most  striking  features  of  a most 
striking  landscape.  Ilising  steadily  from  the  south  gate,  it 
climbs  the  mountain  to  its  very  top,  and  now  dips,  now  rises, 
as  it  follows  the  irregularities  of  the  summit.  At  one  time  it 
disappears  behind  some  nearer  spur,  and  then  again  comes  into 
view  higher  still  on  a projecting  ridge.  It  falls  to  meet  the 
northeast  gate,  at  the  summit  of  a pass,  descending,  apparently, 
only  because  it  must,  and  starts  steeply  up  again  to  the  high 
peaks  of  the  Cock’s-comb.  There  it  winds  in  and  out,  now  lost, 
now  rea2i})earing,  till  distance  merges  it  with  the  mountain’s 
mass.  Like  some  great  p^’thon,  it  lies  coiled  about  the  city, 
stretched  in  lazy  slumber  along  the  very  highest  points,  — over 
peaks  where  it  can,  along  passes  where  it  must. 

From  Avithout,  the  Avail  looks  formidable  enough.  It  ap- 
pears to  be  a solid  mass  of  masonry.  In  truth,  like  all  these 
Avails,  it  is  a shell  of  granite  blocks  enclosing  earth.  WhereA^er 
the  ground  is  leA^el,  its  height,  exce])t  for  its  outside  parapet,  is 
the  same  on  both  sides.  But  in  places  Avhere  a steejA  descent 
offers  an  opportunity,  the  falling  aAvay  of  the  ground  is  taken 
adA'antage  of,  and  the  Avail  gains  in  height  on  the  outer  side 
as  much  as  is  rendered  unnecessary  on  the  inner.  The  Avail  is 
crenellated  along  its  outer  edge  by  a parapet,  and  the  embra- 
sures and  loopholes  giA'e  it  at  a little  distance  the  appearance. 


A WALLED  CITY. 


91 


to  modern  vision,  of  a train  of  cars.  Beliind  the  parapet  runs 
a broad  pathway  of  beaten  earth,  to  Avander  along  Avhich  is 
by  far  the  loveliest  Avalk  in  the  city.  Like  everything  else, 
the  wall  is  sadly  out  of  repair,  and  loses  yearly  in  strength  what 
it  gains  in  pictiiresqueness.  As  you  stroll  along  its  top,  you 
come,  on  the  inner  edge,  upon  great  chasms  that  yawn  obstruct- 
ingly  at  your  feet,  where  some  block  has  given  Avay,  and  tlie 
rains  have  washed  out  a gully  that  falls  away  toward  the  toAvn. 
Great  trees  in  the  neighboring  gardens  raise  their  heads  above 
the  AA'all,  and  send  out  protecting  branches  to  shield  it  from  the 
sun.  Destruction  has  not  as  yet  overtaken  the  outer  edge,  be- 
cause ruin  has  been  stayed  by  man.  The  path  itself  uoav  rises, 
noAv  falls,  turns  here  to  the  left  hand,  and  there  SAveeps  round 
in  a orrand  curve  to  the  right  as  it  folloAA  S the  AA’all  in  its  end- 
less  tAvistings  and  turnings  ; Ayhile  beloAv  lies  spread  out  the 
city  on  the  one  side,  and  on  the  other  is  a sheer  descent  to 
the  leA’el  of  the  plain. 

At  irregular  intei'A’als  stand  the  eight  gates.  In  theor\^  the\" 
stand  at  the  cardinal  points  and  their  half-way  divisions.  Prac- 
tically, they  stand  Avhere  they  may.  They  are  as  imposing  as 
they  are  important ; and  they  are  among  the  finest  buildings  in 
tlie  city,  unless  it  be  contended  that  they  are  outside  it.  For 
each,  though  connected  Avith  the  AA’all,  is,  in  truth,  a building 
ill  itself.  They  resemble  houses  raised  on  perforated  founda- 
tions. So  much  so,  indeed,  that  as  you  approach  one  of 
them  from  the  top  of  tlie  Avail,  you  Avould  imagine  that  you 
stood  on  a level  Avith  the  ground  liefore  some  house  of  the 
better  class.  You  almost  forget  that  underneath  you  is  a 
solid  arch  of  stone,  till  looking  doAvn  vou  catch  sight  of  the 
croAvd  perpetually  SAvalloAved  up  on  the  one  side,  and  dis- 
gorged again  on  the  other.  Fitting  into  this  arch,  that  from 
above  seems  a tunnel,  are  massi\’e  Avooden  gates,  four  inches 
thick,  sheathed  Avitli  iron. 


92 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOEXIHG  CALM. 


Tliese  gateways  Lave  names  in  keeping  with  their  importance. 
The  west  gate  is  called  “ Tlie  Gate  of  Bright  Amiability ; ” the 
south  gate,  “ The  Gate  of  High  Ceremony;  ” and  the  east  gate, 
“ The  Gate  of  Elevated  Humanity.”  The  various  gates  differ  in 
size,  the  east  and  south  gates  being  much  the  largest.  Some  of 
the  gates,  too,  are  consecrated  to  particular  uses.  The  south- 
west gate  is  the  gate  of  criminals ; and  the  southeast  one,  the 
gate  of  corpses.  A criminal  condemned  to  be  beheaded  is 
always  taken  outside  the  city  for  the  execution,  and  the  pro- 
cession invariably  passes  out  through  the  southwest  gate.  To 
pass  out  by  any  other  gate  would  be  to  defile  that  gate.  The 
same  is  the  case  with  the  southeast  gate  for  the  dead.  Onl}" 
the  body  of  a dead  king  may  be  borne  through  any  other. 
This  gate  is  also  called  “ The  Gate  of  Drainage,”  because  the 
river  flows  out  beside  it.  Lastly,  the  north  gate  stands  high 
upon  the  Cock’s-comb.  It  is  always  kept  shut,  except  at 
such  times  as  it  may  be  needed  as  a means  of  escape  for 
his  Majesty  ; for  this  purpose  alone  is  it  used. 


THE  WATCH-FIRES  OX  THE  SOUTH  MOUXTAIX. 


93 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  WATCH-FIRES  ON  THE  SOUTH  MOUNTAIN. 

IF  you  sliould  cliance  to  be  abroad  in  the  streets  of  Soul  in 
the  gloaming,  that  lingering  farewell  of  the  day  that  is 
gone,  your  eyes,  as  they  followed  your  thoughts  from  the 
gloom  of  the  highway  to  tlie  fading  glory  in  heaven,  would 
surely  rest  upon  the  towering  form  of  Xam  San,  or  tlie  South 
Mountain.  Dark,  might}',  mysterious  in  the  twilight,  its 
mass  stands  out  in  bold  relief  against  the  southern  sky.  In 
this  light  it  seems  fairly  to  overhang  the  city,  as  if  about  to 
fall  upon  and  cover  b}'  night  what  it  has  guarded  by  day. 
Instinctively  you  watch  it  as  it  slowly  disappears  into  the 
growing  darkness  of  the  sky  around.  Just  as  it  is  lost  in 
the  gloom,  and  your  look,  freed  from  the  spell,  returns  to  the 
street,  and  a shudder  creeps  over  you  to  find  that  all  has 
become  suddenly  so  dark,  four  little  stars  flash  out  where 
the  top  of  the  mountain  lay  a moment  before.  Poised  so 
hio'h  in  the  heavens,  thev  mijTrht  well  be  the  li<?ht  from 
other  worlds.  They  are  the  watch-fires  on  Nam  San,  — the 
nightly  sign  to  the  capital  that  all  is  well. 

Stars  they  look  to  be ; bonfires  they  really  are.  And  the 
word  is  the  true  symbol  of  their  meaning.  They  are  lighted, 
not  as  warning's  of  danger,  but  as  sig^ns  that  throimhout  Korea 
all  is  security  and  peace.  For  fifteen  minutes  they  burn  there 
to  tell  Soul  of  the  message  from  tlie  provinces,  and  then  they 
vanish  ag’ain  into  the  nig'ht. 


94 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


The  system  of  -whicli  they  are  the  final  link  in  the  chain 
extends  throng’hout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land.  It 
is  a sort  of  light  telegraph}".  On  prominent  heights  along 
the  entire  sea-coast  and  across  the  northern  land-frontier  of  the 
kingdom  are  distributed  cairns  for  bonfires.  They  gird  the 
land  like  a cordon  of  sentries.  Within  sight  of  these,  to  take 
np  and  transmit  tlie  message  they  send  every  night,  are  posted 
otliers  on  the  tops  of  neighboring  hills  ; and  so  they  succeed 
each  other,  one  hill  telling  the  next,  till  the  news  readies  the 
central  point  of  each  province.  From  these  centres  the  mes- 
sage is  sent  along  in  like  manner  from  point  to  point,  on 
towards  Sdnl,  till  at  last  all  are  received  together  upon  the 
top  of  the  South  Mountain. 

To  telegra})h  good  or  bad  news,  as  the  case  may  be,  there 
is  an  elaborate  code  of  signals.  On  the  summit  of  Nam  San 
are  five  cairns.  In  times  of  peace,  four  only  of  these  are 
liglited  ; and  each  of  the  four,  respectively,  represents  two  out 
of  the  eight  provinces  into  which  Korea  is  divided.  As  peace 
is  fortunately  the  normal  state,  the  system  in  this  case  is  the 
simplest  possible.  The  danger-signals  are  complicated,  so  com- 
plicated that  to  give  a careful  account  of  them  here  would  be 
useless.  We  should  be  making  an  exposition  of  the  signal  ser- 
vice of  the  Korean  War  Department.  An  example  or  two  will 
serve  as  a sufficient  illustration.  If,  for  instance,  an  enemy 
makes  his  appeai’ance  off  a certain  province,  say  Chullado,  an 
extra  bonfire  is  built  close  to  the  main  one 'that  represents  the 
province  of  Chnllado,  and  to  its  right,  its  left  side  being  allotted 
to  the  use  of  tlie  other  province  which  it  represents.  Then, 
again,  in  times  of  danger  other  bonfires  are  liglited  above  the 
first  in  number,  according  to  the  imminence  of  the  danger,  — 
one  when  the  enemy  are  observed  off  the  coast  or  near  the 
frontier,  two  when  they  are  about  to  cross  it  or  disembark, 
three  Avhen  they  have  done  so,  and  four  when  the  fighting 


THE  WATCH-FIEES  OX  THE  SOUTH  MOUXTAIX. 


95 


lias  actually  begun.  As  I never  saw  them  lighted,  I leave 
to  the  reader  the  difficult  task  of  understanding  their  possible 
disposition.  The  system  is  carefully  expounded  in  Korean 
books  on  the  subject. 

In  the  day-time  the  cairns  themselves,  even  when  5"ou  know 
where  to  look,  can  barely  be  made  out  from  the  city,  — from 
the  ])lain,  it  would  be  more  exact  to  say  ; for  they  lie,  in  fact, 
within  the  city’s  wall.  Although  they  are  separated  from  the 
mass  of  houses  by  the  whole  mountain-side,  which  is  covered 
with  forest,  they  are  nevertheless  a more  integral  part  of  Soul 
than  the  densely  settled  suburbs  that  nestle  to  her  outside  the 
gates.  For  the  city’s  wall  runs  .directly  over  the  middle  of 
the  mountain  ; it  climbs  by  a series  of  steps  — so  steep  is  the 
profile  of  the  rise  — to  the  summit,  tojos  a sharp  ridge,  and 
descends  again  in  the  same  fashion  on  the  other  side.  Taken 
in  connection  with  the  mountain  itself,  it  is  certainly  one  of 
the  highest  fortifications  in  the  world, — eight  hundred  feet 
of  Nature’s  breastwork,  topped  b}'  fifteen  feet  more  of  man’s. 
l)Ut  for  Sciul  this  is,  relatively,  rather  low  ; on  the  north  the 
height  is  many  times  as  great. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  advanta«-e  has  been  taken  of  the  ridtre. 
The  wall  has  been  placed  just  beyond  the  highest  point,  so  that 
but  one  side  of  it  had  to  be  built.  As  you  stand  upon  it,  your 
look  sweeps  down  through  the  forest,  off  into  the  distance,  to 
Avhere  the  river  Ilan,  reflecting  the  sun,  gleams  like  a belt  of 
silver  in  the  plain.  In  one  vast  semicircle  it  girdles  the  amphi- 
theatre of  peaks  that  surround  Soul ; and  beyond  it  rises  range 
behind  range  of  mountains,  like  the  billows  of  a frozen  sea  for 
the  snow  on  them.  At  this  height  villages  merge  into  their  sur- 
roundings, and  you  are  left  to  commune  alone  Avith  a scene  as 
grandly  desolate  as  the  ice  and  snow  that  cover  it. 

Parallel  to  the  Avail,  on  the  otlier  side  of  tlie  narroAv  ridtre 
that  makes  the  summit,  Avliich  is  of  tlie  form  of  a thin  long 


9G 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


saddle,  and  rises  somewhat  higher  on  both  sides  than  in  the 
middle,  are  built  five  well-like  structures  of  stone.  They  are 
of  the  same  form  as  the  wells,  — cii’cular,  — and  are  of 
about  the  same  diameter,  — five  feet  across.  These  are  the 
cairns. 

On  the  southern  edge  of  the  ridge  stands  a house  for  the 
shelter  of  the  people  engaged  in  tending  the  watch-fires,  and 
near  it  is  a small  tem^de.  Its  isolation  preserves  it,  for  it 
is  against  the  law  that  it  should  exist  within  the  city  walls; 
and  technically,  though  hardly  for  practical  purposes,  it  does 
lie  within  them.  It  corresponds  to  a shinto  shrine,  but  with 
images,  paintings,  and  rich  and  gnyly  colored  ornaments 
crowding  its  eight  feet  by  ten  in  a way  quite  unlike  the  stern 
simplicity  of  its  counterpart  in  Japan.  Its  isolation  Avas  also 
the  cause  of  its  being.  The  temple  is  said  to  have  been  built 
in  memory  of  the  last  king  of  the  last  dynasty.  The  king  him- 
self does  not  lie  buried  there ; but  after  Soul  Avas  founded,  the 
new  line,  Avlncli  oAved  its  existence  to  the  extinction  of  the  one 
before,  resoh^ed  in  this  inexpensive  manner  to  honor  its  pre- 
decessor. This  place  Avas  fixed  upon  for  a site,  first,  because 
it  Avas  high,  and  thus  Avould  do  the  king  the  greatest  honor, 
and  secondh’,  because  it  Avas  remote,  and  so  AA’ould  do  the 
people  the  least  harm. 

The  ridge  itself  is  a little  bit  of  park  land,  AA'here  grand 
old  trees  possess,  in  undisputed  soA^ereignt}",  their  oavu  square 
rods  of  earth,  and  the  Avide  branches  arch,  in  lordly  protec- 
tion, over  a level  greensAvard  of  silky  mountain  grass.  Be- 
loAA",  on  the  steep  slope,  hustling  one  another  for  pre-eminence, 
groAv  the  rank  and  file  of  a fairly  primeval  forest.  Through 
vistas  in  this  yon  can  catch  glimpses  of  the  city  fiir  be- 
loAV,  — a mass  of  purplish-black  roofs  in  a great  holloAv 
tOAvered  OA’er  by  sharp  and  jagged  peaks.  You  seem  to  be 
iuA’ading  its  privacy,  looking  doAvn  upon  it  thus,  — to  be 


THE  AYATCH-FIEES  ON  THE  SOUTH  MOUNTAIN.  97 


gazing  from  the  standpoint  of  another  world  upon  some 
charmed  valley. 

But  a little  below  the  summit,  Avhere  the  shoulder  of  the 
mountain  falls  abruptly  away,  is  a view  yet  finer  still.  It  is 
a place  where  the  ledges  break  suddenly  off,  and  the  trees  can 
find  no  foothold  on  the  bare  rock  above,  and  no  slope  to  cling 
to  for  some  tens  of  feet  below.  It  is  a spot,  chosen  by  Nature, 
from  which  to  scan  the  city  at  your  feet.  You  are  so  high 
above  the  town,  and  yet  so  near  it,  that  it  lies  there  like  a map 
spread  out  before  you,  — a map  that  is  alive.  The  streets  come 
out  like  bright  ribbons  between  the  dusky  houses,  and  the  men 
in  their  light  dresses  look  like  slowly  moving  white  dots  as 
they  walk  along  them.  And  yet  there  is  no  sound ; it  is  only 
a pantomime  of  the  life  of  Soul. 

Close  under  your  feet,  leading  diagonally  away  on  the  right, 
is  a very  conspicuous  thorouglifare.  It  is  the  main  entrance 
to  the  city.  It  leads  from  the  south  gate,  which  lies  concealed 
on  the  left,  to  a sort  of  square  in  the  very  heart  of  the  city. 
On  it  the  white  dots  are  near  enough  to  be  made  out  as  men 
walking.  This  street,  as  it  advances,  curves  gradually  to  the 
left  till  it  crosses  on  a stone  bridge  one  of  the  dry  streams,  and 
then  widens  into  the  square.  This  square  is  a veritable  human 
hive.  On  one  side  of  it  rise  the  only  two-storied  buildings  in  the 
place.  They  are  at  present  tenanted  by  the  largest  merchants 
of  Soul,  Avho  hire  the  buildings  of  the  Government,  into  whose 
hands  they  liave  in  some  mj'sterious  manner  fallen.  On  the 
other  side  is  the  big  bell,  encased  in  a small  house  of  its  own. 

At  right  angles  to  this  street  runs  another  from  the  east  to 
the  Avest  gate.  Running,  as  it  does,  almost  directly  across  the 
line  of  vision,  it  is  so  hidden  as  to  be  indistinguishable.  Con- 
sidered both  for  its  length  and  Avidth,  it  is  the  most  important 
street  in  the  city.  The  other  highway  is  the  principal  entrance ; 
this  is  the  principal  internal  thoroughfare  of  Soul. 

7 


98 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


Following  it  farther  to  the  left,  — that  is,  farther  to  the  west, 
— you  will  see  a very  broad  avenue  branching  olf  to  the  nortli. 
At  the  upper  end  of  this  is  a large,  conspicuous  building.  It  is 
the  outer  gateway  of  the  Old  Palace.  Even  at  this  distance 
it  is  one  of  the  most  striking  objects  in  the  view.  From  it  up 
to  the  base  of  the  North  Hill,  — the  conical  peak  directly  across 
the  valley,  — stretch  the  Palace  grounds.  The  two  buildings 
that  tower  in  its  midst  are  the  Audience  Hall,  on  the  right,  and 
the  Palace  of  Summer,  on  the  left.  Its  enclosing  -svall  can 
easily  be  made  out,  as  it  starts  from  the  gate  and  sweejis  around 
on  either  hand,  meeting  again  on  the  slope. 

To  the  right  of  the  Old  Palace,  but  separated  from  it  by  a 
portion  of  the  city,  are  the  NeAv  Palace  grounds.  Its  wall  is 
visible,  but  the  buildings  ’within  are  hidden  by  the  trees.  Be- 
tween the  two  is  the  Foreign  Office,  fully  two  miles  away  from 
where  ’we  stand. 

Just  at  our  feet,  Avith  its  back  up  against  the  base  of  the 
South  Mountain,  stand  the  buildings  of  the  Japanese  legation. 
From  a flag-staff  above  it  floats  the  Jajianese  ensign,  the  red 
ball  on  the  white  field.  Here  lives  the  little  Japanese  colony, — 
a true  bit  of  transplanted  Japan,  — all  alone  in  an  alien  land. 
Some  of  the  legation  have  Avith  them  their  AAUA’es,  and  many 
children  play  about  its  courtyards.  It  has  its  oavu  force  of 
soldiers,  kept  constantly  recruited  from  home  ; its  doctors,  its 
policemen,  — all  that  it  can  need  to  be  sufficient  to  itself  The 
minister  is  as  much  a gOA’crnor  as  a representatiA’e  at  a foreign 
court.  Day  and  night  the  soldiers  stand  before  the  gateAvay  of 
the  legation  buildings,  and  change  guard  as  if  it  Avere  a camp ; 
and  AAdienever  the  minister  goes  abroad,  a certain  number  of 
them  accompany  him  as  escort.  The  soldiers  are  needed. 
Once  before,  and  once  since,  that  day  AAdien  I looked  doAvn 
upon  it,  the  legation  has  had  to  fight  its  Avay  from  Soul  to 
the  sea. 


THE  WATCH-FIRES  ON  THE  SOUTH  MOUNTAIN.  99 


Over  to  tlie  left  is  the  American  legation  with  its  flag,  — a 
large  compound,  with  fine  old  houses,  formerly  a noble’s  palace. 
The  compound  of  Yon  Mdllendorff,  the  foreign  member  of  the 
Foreign  Office,  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  panorama,  between 
the  two  palaces,  a little  nearer  to  Nam  San  than  the  Foreign 
Office  itself  Between  us  and  the  American  legation  rises  a 
skeleton  gatewa}^,  one  of  the  two  “ Red  Arrow  Gates  ” of  Soul. 
It  foretells  wliat  is  called  “ The  South  Set  Apart  Palace,”  now 
occupied  by  the  resident  Chinese  commissioner. 

These  were  the  salient  points,  few  in  number,  in  the  pano- 
rama, almost  virgin  to  European  eyes,  that  lay  at  my  feet  that 
day,  as  I gazed  uj)on  tlie  capital  of  the  Hermit  Land ; and  back 
of  all,  in  majestic  grandeur,  rose  the  serrated  peaks  of  the  great 
Cock’s-comb. 


100 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  GOVERNMENT. 

For  two  reasons  it  seems  fitting  to  say  something  here  on 
the  subject  which  has  givxn  tlie  title  to  this  chapter.  In 
a land  where  the  Government  is,  in  one  sense,  everything, 
it  surely  deserves  mention ; and  courtesy  would  also  seem 
to  require  a word  where  the  same  power  has  played  the  part 
of  host.  I therefore  consider  myself  absolved  for  what  may 
possibly  be  thought  prosy. 

In  front  of  the  Audience  Hall  of  the  Old  Palace  of  Soul,  — 
which  is,  perhaps,  the  finest  building  in  Korea,  and  Avhich, 
Avhere  king  is  countiy,  may  with  a certain  right  be  taken  for 
the  reception-room  of  the  land, — there  stand,  facing  the  en- 
trance and  flanking  on  either  hand  the  approach  Avhich  leads 
from  the  innermost  of  the  three  gates  to  the  first  flight  of  steps, 
two  rows  of  granite  slabs.  They  are  placed  on  end,  upon 
small  square  pedestals,  in  the  midst  of  the  grass  of  the  inner 
court,  somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  our  gravestones ; and  like 
them,  too,  they  have  inscriptions  carved  upon  their  faces. 
With  the  exception  of  these  inscrijitions,  they  are  all  precisel}' 
alike,  and  follow  one  another  at  equal  intervals  on  either  side 
of  the  pathway.  Each  is  exactly  in  line  behind  its  predeces- 
sor, and  the  stones  of  the  tAvo  roAvs  correspond  in  position 
and  lettering.  There  are  eighteen  of  them  arranged  thus  on 
a side. 


THE  GOVERNMENT. 


101 


A translation  of  the  characters  engraved  upon  them  explains, 
seemingly,  rather  their  position  than  their  use.  Beginning  at 
the  end  toward  the  Audience  Hall,  the  first  stone  bears  the 
inscription,  “ the  true  first  rank  ; ” the  stone  behind  it,  “ the 
following  first  rank;”  the  next,  “the  true  second  rank;”  and 
so  on  to  “ the  following  ninth  rank.”  But  to  him  who  knows 
how  to  read  between  the  carved  words,  there  seems  almost  a 
personality  in  the  stones ; for  they  are  the  outward  expression 
of  the  spirit  that  shapes  Korean  society.  They  are  mute  em- 
blems to  the  great  god  Ceremony,  and  embody,  as  it  were, 
in  granite,  the  regime  of  the  land. 

They  are  ceremonial  bourns.  They  mark  the  limits  of 
approach  to  the  person  of  their  sovereign  permitted  to  the  va- 
rious ranks  of  officials.  So  far  off  must  stand  each  rank  in  the 
Korean  official  oligarchy  Avhen,  on  occasions  of  governmental 
pageant,  they  come  to  assist  at  a royal  reception.  The  ranks 
are  the  outward  immaterial  expression  of  office,  just  as  the  elab- 
orate system  of  court  clothes  is  the  outward  material  expression 
of  the  ranks.  They  have  nothing  intrinsically  to  do  with 
office;  and  yet  each  office  has  its  own  rank,  to  which,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  a man  is  raised  when  he  is  appointed  to  that 
office.  Many  totally  different  offices  possess  the  same  rank,  so 
that  the  stone  slabs  indicate  both  the  Govennnent,  and  what, 
for  want  of  a better  word,  we  may  call  social  standing  in 
Korea.  We  cannot  call  it  a nobility,  though  it  possesses  many 
of  its  attributes,  because,  as  we  shall  see  later,  there  exists  a 
nobility  beside,  but  a nobility  which,  though  indirectly  power- 
ful, directly  commands  neither  obedience  nor  obsequiousness. 
In  a book  on  court  etiquette,  whose  weary,  statistical-like  pages 
of  catalogue  I have  had  translated,  each  office  and  its  corre- 
sponding rank  is  most  minutely  described,  from  that  of  the 
crown  prince  to  that  of  a maid-servant  in  the  palace.  Such 
a schedule  is  exceedingly  interesting  to  those  for  whom  the 


102 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


})Osts  are  so  many  rungs  of  the  ladder  to  fame,  but  endlessly 
tedious  to  any  one  beside. 

The  king  of  Korea  is  an  absolute  monarch.  Divine  by 
birth,  he  is  omnipotent  by  heredity.  But  his  will,  though 
law,  is  transmitted  to  the  people  through  an  elaborate  sys- 
tem of  magistrates.  Some  of  these  are  counsellors,  some  are 
only  executors  of  the  royal  or  vice-royal  commands.  All  of 
them  — the  highest  with  the  lowest  — hold  their  positions 
directly  from  the  sovereign,  and  any  position  is  revocable  at 
once  at  the  king’s  good  pleasure.  In  theory,  therefore,  each 
is  independent  of  his  fellows ; in  practice,  of  course,  those 
who  are  the  highest  stand  nearest  to  the  royal  ear,  and 
can  largely  influence  the  appointments  and  removals  of  the 
lower  magistracy.  Tkey  not  only  have  the  power,  but  use 
it  most  iniquitously ; for  the  administration  of  offices  is  a 
very  lucrative  profession. 

Nearest  to  his  Majesty  stand  the  three  great  ministers  of 
State,  the  State  referring  in  its  broadest  sense  to  the  whole  land. 
They  are  consulted  by  his  Majesty  on  all  matters  touching  the 
kinerdom.  They  are  called  the  Counsellor  of  the  RiMfl,  the 
Counsellor  of  the  Middle,  and  the  Counsellor  of  the  Left.  This 
is  their  order  of  precedence.  They  resemble  the  three  great 
ministers  of  Japan. 

Below  them  come  the  six  departments  of  the  Government. 
Tliey  are  as  follows  : Ri  Chyo,  or  the  Department  of  the  Inte- 
rior ; IIo  Chyo,  or  the  De})artment  of  the  Treasury  ; Pybng 
Chyo,  or  the  Department  of  War  ; Re  Chyo,  or  the  Department 
of  Rites  ; Hydng  Chyo,  or  the  Department  of  Justice  ; Kong 
Chvo,  or  the  Department  of  Public  Works. 

Each  of  these  is  presided  over  by  a Pan  So  (“decisive  sig- 
nature”). He  is  aided  by  several  Cham  Pan  (“help  to  decide”), 
and  by  Cham  Wi  (“  help  to  discuss”).  As  their  name  implies, 
the  last  are  inferior  to  the  Cham  Pan  in  power,  and  are  rather 


THE  GOVEENMENT. 


103 


advocates  than  judges.  Both  precede  the  secretaries  of  the 
department.  The  number  of  Cham  Pan,  of  Cham  Ui,  and  of 
tlie  secretaries  varies  witii  the  particular  department.  These 
compose  the  central  Government. 

Among  the  six,  it  will  be  noticed,  is  included  none  for  foreign 
affairs.  This  was  for  the  very  good  and  sufficient  reason  that 
there  were  no  foreign  affairs  to  transact.  The  only  intercourse 
the  Koreans  had  with  foreigners  was  forced  upon  them  by 
China,  and  that  was  of  the  nature  of  tributary  to  superior. 
With  other  peoples,  like  the  Manchus  and  the  Japanese,  they 
were  only  brought  in  contact  by  being  occasionally  conquered 
by  them ; and  in  such  untoward  emergencies  they  appointed 
special  envoys  to  treat.  It  was  only  recently,  in  consequence 
of  the  first  treaty  with  Japan,  that  the  need  of  such  a depart- 
ment came  to  be  felt ; and  shortly  after,  it  was  created  in 
addition  to  the  other  six. 

The  creation  of  this  body  necessitated  by  antithesis  a home 
department,  which  was  instituted  a year  later.  In  constitution, 
the  Foreign  Office  was  based  upon  the  Chinese  system,  the 
Home  Office  upon  the  Japanese. 

Next  in  position  follow  the  governors  of  the  different  prov- 
inces. Each  of  them  has  six  assistants.  Instead  of  Chyo,  these 
six  departments  of  provincial  government  are  called  Bang,  or 
“ chamber.”  The  heads  of  the  chambers  rank  with  the  grade 
next  below,  the  district  magistrates ; for  each  province  is 
divided  into  several  districts.  Each  district  magistrate  has  in 
his  turn  six  assistants.  In  fact,  six  seems  to  be  a magic  number 
in  Korean  bureaucracy.  So  the  line  goes  down. 

Then  there  are  several  unattached  offices,  so  to  speak,  — 
the  several  military  positions,  the  position  of  inspector  of  the 
coast,  etc. 

One  man  often  holds  many  offices.  For  instance,  one  of  the 
Cham  Pan  of  the  Foreign  Office  was  at  the  same  time  governor 


104 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALIM. 


of  tlie  province  of  Kyong  Keui  To,  and  held  a liigli  military 
position,  and  I know  not  what  else  to  hoot. 

How  are  these  officials  appointed  ? Is  such  appointment 
entirely  arbitrary,  or  is  it  subjected  to  any  law  ? In  answer- 
ing this  question  we  are  brought  face  to  face  with  one  of  the 
most  singular,  and  all  the  more  striking  because  one  of  the 
most  fundamental,  of  Chinese  phenomena  ; for  it  is  not  a pro- 
duct of  Tartar,  but  of  Chinese  thought.  Literature  is  in  Korea 
the  only  portal  to  political  power.  In  order  to  become  eligible 
to  the  magistracy,  a man  must  have  passed  several  literary 
examinations.  Only  after  he  has  received  his  diploma  can  he 
be  apiDointed  to  office.  The  Koreans  took  the  Cliinese  system, 
and  have  changed  it  simply  in  unimportant  extrinsic  details. 
With  them,  as  with  their  models,  the  capacity  for  poetry  and 
pedantry  is  the  test  of  mind.  To  be  able  to  write  unlimited 
verse,  and  to  interpret  the  Chinese  classics  with  due  reverential 
regard,  are  the  qualities  to  win  success.  Wliat  in  China  is  a 
species  of  literary  worship  of  its  own  classics  becomes  in  Korea 
the  worship  of  another  people’s  classics,  and  finds  for  devotion 
to  the  thoughts  of  a foreign  past  a j^arallel  in  the  study  of  Greek 
and  Latin  during  the  Middle  Ages  in  Euroj)e, — a study  kept 
alive  by  the  monks  and  continued  by  scholars  to  the  present 
day.  A magistrate  is,  therefore,  first  a poet.  Then  he  is,  to  a 
certainty,  in  what  pertains  to  China  and  incidentally  to  his  own 
country,  a very  learned  man,  though  by  no  means  necessarily 
a man  of  original  thought.  When  Latin  was  still  a password  to 
respect  in  the  House  of  Commons,  English  politics  fixintly  sug- 
gested the  present  Korean  state  of  things,  only  that  what  was 
there  but  an  aid  to  influence  one’s  colleagues  is  here  an  admis- 
sion to  the  bod}"  itself. 

In  Korea,  as  in  China,  there  are  three  grades  of  examina- 
tions, all  of  which  must  be  j^assed  by  the  candidate  in  due 
course.  Unlike  the  Chinese  custom,  these  examinations  are 


THE  GOVERmiENT. 


105 


lield  exclusively  in  Soul.  For  the  preliminary  grade  they  take 
place  every  year ; for  the  higher  ones,  only  when  his  Majesty 
sees  fit  to  appoint  tliem.  As  soon  as  a young  man  — or,  for 
the  matter  of  that,  lie  may  he  a very  old  man,  for  unsuccessful 
candidates  may  keep  on  trying  as  long  as  they  like,  and  many 
of  them  grow  gray  in  these  praiseworth}'  but  futile  attemj^ts  — 
passes  the  final  examination,  he  becomes  potentially  a magis- 
trate. He  does  not  at  once  always  become  so  in  fact,  because 
tlie  profession  is  somewhat  overstocked  as  it  is ; but  before 
long  he  is  given  some  place  or  other,  and  after  this  his  rise  de- 
pends solely  upon  his  ability  to  persuade  his  Majesty  of  the 
desirability  of  promoting  him. 

Ilis  position  is  purely  personal.  He  transmits  to  his  son 
only  the  plunder  his  office  has  enabled  him  to  amass.  His 
rank  and  his  honors  die  with  him. 

The  extreme  rio^or  of  the  literarv  examinations  is  to  some 
fortunate  mortals  tempered  by  the  accident  of  noble  birth.  If 
a man  is  born  a noble,  heredity  is  allowed  to  count  for  some- 
thing, and  his  poetry  need  not  be  so  good  nor  his  learning  so 

exact  as  would  otherwise  be  deemed  necessarv.  Such  blind- 

•/ 

ness  in  the  examiners  is  (piite  unrecognized,  — every  man  is 
su])posed  to  be  judged  alike  and  impartially,  — but  somehow 
it  exists.  And  this  introduces  us  to  yet  another  factor  in 
Korean  society,  — the  lingering  trace  of  an  old  nobility. 
There  still  exists  in  Korea,  in  spite  of  the  levelling  deluge 
of  Confucianism  that  has  swept  the  land,  the  surviving  spirit 
of  family  prestige.  Whether  it  is  the  remains  of  a feudal 
system  such  as  existed  in  ancient  times  in  China,  and  such 
as  lasted  till  the  other  day  in  Japan,  is  a question.  It  is 
certainly  a survival  from  the  time  of  the  old  petty  princes 
who,  in  early  days,  ruled  each  his  little  province  till  all  were 
eventually  conquered  by  one.  This  we  know  from  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  present  family  names.  While  they  lost  their 


106 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


former  power,  they  kept  its  shadow  in  that  they  are  still 
honored,  though  no  longer  obeyed.  They  have  no  particular 
political  rights ; but  favoritism  in  the  elections  keeps  the  class 
alive,  and  enables  them  still  to  look  down  somewhat  upon 
the  parvenus  whose  indi's  idual  ability  has  made  them  their 
peers  in  office  and  their  equals  before  the  law. 

What  with  the  ranks  in  station,  the  degrees  of  the  exami- 
nations, the  actual  offices,  and  a trace  of  hereditary  nobility, 
— all  four  of  which  are  entirely  different  matters,  — the  subject 
suggests  at  first  something  of  a ceremonial  chaos,  hopeless 
in  its  intricacy.  But  for  a Korean  its  intricacies  possess  no 
m}'stery,  for  they  have  been  from  infancy  his  study.  To 
him  the  subject  wraps  up  in  itself  the  whole  aim  of  life. 
Intellect,  ambition,  gain,  — all  are  to  him  embodied  in  the 
Government. 


THE  TRIAD  OF  PRINCIPLES. 


107 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  TRIAD  OF  PRINCIPLES. 

'^T^HERE  is  among’  ns  a prevailing  impression  that  the  far- 
East — China,  Korea,  and  Japan  — is  deliglitfnlly  but 
hopelessly  odd,  and  that  the  interest  attaching  to  these  lands 
lies  solely  in  this  irrational  oddity.  For  any  people  to  write 
backwards,  to  talk  backwards,  to  sit  upon  their  feet,  to  take 
off  not  their  hats  but  their  shoes  on  entering  a house,  and  in 
countless  other  ways  to  conform  to  what  seems  more  like  a 
photographic  negative  of  our  own  civilization  than  a com- 
panion picture,  — this  is  indeed  a social  phenomenon  to  rouse 
the  most  sluggish  curiosity  ; and  then,  with  an  admission  that 
the  sight  is  very  interesting  because  so  passing  strange,  the 
subject  is  dismissed  and  the  interest  is  supposed  to  terminate. 
Partly  from  want  of  opportunity,  partly  from  neglect,  we  open 
tlie  eyes,  shut  the  brain,  and  think  we  see. 

In  truth,  the  interest  in  it  has  but  just  been  awakened  ; the 
life  of  it,  its  strength,,  is  yet  to  come.  It  is  because  the  far- 
East  holds  up  the  mirror  to  our  own  civilization,  — a mirror 
that  like  all  mirrors  gives  us  back  left  for  right,  — because  by 
lier  very  oddities,  as  they  strike  us  at  first,  we  learn  truly  to 
criticise,  examine,  and  realize  our  own  way  of  doing  things, 
that  she  is  so  very  interesting.  It  is  in  this  that  her  great 
attraction  lies.  It  is  for  this  that  men  have  gone  to  Japan 
intending  to  stay  weeks,  and  have  tarried  years.  A far  more 


108 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


potent  magnetism  than  the  most  delicious  of  climates,  the 
wonderful  urbanity  of  the  people,  the  quaintness  of  the  cus- 
toms, are  the  vistas  into  the  springs  of  the  world’s  life,  as  a 
whole,  that  these  customs  open  out  to  us,  in  the  loadstone 
that  holds  us  to  the  s})ot. 

AVe  cannot  truly  be  said  to  know  an3’thing  apart  from  its 
relations.  Unless  Ave  realize  the  dissimilar,  we  do  not  fully 
appreciate  Avhat  lies  at  our  elbow.  We  nia}"  see  or  even  do  a 
thing,  daj"  after  day,  and  }"et  aAvake  some  morning  to  discover 
that  we  never  understood  it.  Habit  blunts  the  perceptions. 
We  insensibl}'  confuse  the  accidental  and  the  unimportant  Avith 
the  Autal  and  the  fundamental.  But  let  us  change  our  attitude 
toAvard  the  subject  in  question  ; let  us  see  it  from  a slightl}^ 
different  point  of  vieAv,  and  aa"o  begin  to  be  aAvare  of  AA’hat  it 
reall}^  is  in  a Ava}'  Ave  never  AA’ere  conscious  of  before.  It  is 
such  a point  of  view  that  the  far-East  affords  us  in  sociolog}^ 

FeAv  people,  Ave  imagine,  Avould  assert,  eA’en  to  themselves, 
that  the  far-Oriental  is  not  a man,  — that  is,  that  his  consti- 
tution in  mind  or  body  is  radically  different  from  our  oaaui. 
And  3"et,  in  spite  of  this  tacit  consent  to  admit  him  to  the 
human  familjq  there  is  a secret  tendency  to  overlook  the  prin- 
ciple that  humanity  is  and  must  be  human,  — that  is  to  say, 
that  he  is  a being  like  unto  ourseh’es,  Avith  like  motives  to 
urge,  like  reasoning  to  determine,  his  actions,  and  that  our 
character  is  just  the  particular  key  made  to  fit  the  lock  of  his. 
It  is  a ke}"  groAvn  rust}^  Avith  time,  perhaps ; climate  maj^  liaA’e 
corroded  and  changed  the  lock  ; but,  Avith  a little  patient  study, 
it  Avill  at  last  turn  and  reveal  to  us  more  familiar  sights  than 
Ave  had  thought  possible. 

If,  then,  Ave  admit  that  the  extreme  Oriental  is  a man,  — 
that,  traced  far  enough  back,  his  genealogy  and  ours  meet  in  a 
common  point,  — the  contrasts  Ave  observe  to-day  in  the  two 
modes  of  life  acquire  a significance  and  possess  an  interest 


THE  TRIAD  OF  PRINCIPLES. 


109 


far  beyond  wliat  is  afforded  by  tbe  odd  simply  because  it  is 
such.  Taken  in  connection  with  our  own  way  of  doing  things, 
his,  from  its  very  dissimilarity,  will  yield  ns,  as  it  w'ere,  an  his- 
torical parallax  for  the  determination  of  our  common  remote 
past  and  of  the  possibilities  and  adaptabilities  of  the  human 
race.  The  greater  the  contrast,  the  greater  the  resulting  paral- 
lax. The  more  diverse,  therefore,  the  two  races  we  study  and 
compare,  the  more  will  it  be  possible  to  discover  about  soci- 
ology  in  general,  if  only  we  are  able  to  mark  the  steps  in  the 
line  of  progress;  for  we  are  speaking  of  civilized  nations.  Were 
one  of  the  two  a savage  tribe,  we  should  discover  from  it  only 
a reflection  of  its  own  past ; barbarism  being  but  the  stagna- 
tion of  society.  Bnt  the  peoples  we  have  now  before  us  are 
civilized  peoples.  Their  condition  is  in  most  respects  not  so 
high  as  our  own ; in  some  ways  it  is  higher.  But  the  impor- 
tant point  is  that  in  both  there  has  been  an  advance  from  a 
similar  original  state,  although  along  two  very  different  lines. 

Now,  of  all  the  races  u})on  the  earth’s  surface,  the  Japanese 
race,  and,  closely  allied  to  it,  the  Korean,  are  probably  the 
farthest  removed  froni  our  own.  The  Ijroad  expanse  of  the 
Pacific  is  now  the  birthplace  of  the  da}',  because  for  many 
centuries  it  has  been  a gulf  that  has  not  been  crossed  save  b}' 
waifs,  the  involuntary  sport  of  ocean  currents.  Before  this, 
probably,  certain  of  the  Mongol  races  did  wander  round  it  to 
the  north ; and  to  their  dead  civilizations  in  Mexico  and  Peru 
attaches  an  interest  onl}^  just  now  beginning  to  receive  its  due. 
Roughly  speaking,  we  may  measure  the  degree  of  divergence 
in  the  customs  of  two  peoples  by  the  distance  they  live  apart. 
In  detail,  of  course,  the  criterion  would  not  hold ; but  in  general 
and  for  our  })resent  purpose  it  is  in  the  main  true.  As  we  pro- 
ceed from  India  westward  Ave  find  a greater  accentuation  of 
what  Ave  call  European ; as  Ave  go  eastAvard  from  it,  an  ever- 
increasing  dissimilarity. 


no 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


]3ut,  interesting-  as  is  the  study  of  sucli  comparative  etli- 
nology,  it  is  not  for  the  purpose  of  investigating  it  with 
reference  to  ourselves  that  I have  s})oken  of  the  universal 
kinship  of  man.  Here  it  is  the  converse  I propose  to  touch 
upon.  Important  as  is  the  knowledge  of  ourselves,  we  are 
at  present  engaged  upon  the  study  of  our  antipodes  in  lon- 
gitude, if  not  strictly  so  in  latitude.  Now,  in  any  sense  to 
know  them,  it  is  not  enough  to  glance  at  Avliat  we  find,  but 
in  some  sort,  however  hastily  and  briefly,  to  look  backward 
till  we  meet  with  a past  whicli  is  to  us  familiar  in  a way 
tlieir  differentiated  present  is  not,  and  without  such  help 
never  can  become.  It  is  not  to  expound  the  past,  but  to 
ex})lain  the  present,  that  I ask,  for  a moment,  the  reader’s 
attention. 

There  is  another  reason  wh}^  sucli  consideration  is  even 
superficially  most  valuable.  Korea  is  not  China ; it  is  not 
Japan.  This  may  seem  an  nnnecessary  remark,  and  espe- 
cially in  a book  that  })urports  to  tell  of  Korea.  But  I can 
assure  the  reader  that  it  is  not.  If  he  had  been  asked  such 
questions  as  whether  the  pinching  of  the  feet  in  Korea  is  not 
a horrible  sight,  when,  as  a matter  of  fiict,  such  pinching  is  as 
unpractised  and  as  condemned  there  as  it  is  with  us,  — if  such 
inferences  were  to  be  numbered  by  hundreds  rather  than  by 
units,  — he  would  realize  that  a tahula  rasa  of  anticipatory 
misconceptions  is  first  needed  before  anything  can  wisely  be 
written  thereon.  Were  they  simply  in  appearances,  a descrip- 
tion might  indeed  be  alloiA^ed  to  speak  for  itself;  but,  as  is 
knoAvn  to  OA-^ery  painter,  it  is  not  alone  those  colors  that  lie 
on  the  surface  that  give  the  picture  its  effect,  but  others 
deeper  doAvn,  Avhose  existence  the  unpractised  eye  scarcely 
suspects. 

To  understand  Korea,  therefore,  Ave  shall  perforce  be  obliged 
to  consider,  as  briefly  as  possible,  her  relationship  to  China  and 


THE  TEIAD  OF  PRINCIPLES. 


Ill 


Japan.  The  position  she  bears  and  the  position  she  has  borne 
in  the  past  to  these  two  lands  will  lead  us  by  inference  still  far- 
ther back,  and  reveal  to  ns  the  springs  from  which  her  customs 
have  flowed.  We  shall  learn,  at  the  same  time,  Avhy  these  cus- 
toms exist,  and  what  they  mean,  — the  motives,  in  short,  which 
have  caused  her  to  assume  at  last  what  appears  to  ns  to  be  so 
cnrions  a condition  of  society.  By  thus  following  out  her  past 
it  will  be  found,  as  it  seems  to  me,  that  there  have  been  three 
great  characteristics,  partly  individual,  partly  social,  which 
have  been  especially  conducive  to  the  result ; and  1 have  called 
them,  therefore,  the  triad  of  principles.  They  have  acted  and 
interacted  upon  one  another,  increasing  each  the  other’s  indi- 
vidual effect,  and  yet  each  is  in  itself  quite  independent  of  the 
other  two.  These  three  principles  are,  — the  quality  of  imper- 
sonalit}’,  the  patriarchal  system,  and  the  j^osition  of  woman. 
Following  these  principles  as  clues,  the  enigma  will  cease  to 
be  })erplexing ; and  many  a custom,  so  singular  at  first  sight, 
will  be  found  explicable  in  as  natural  a way  as  the  simplest  of 


those  with  Avhich  since  childhood  we  have  been  familiar. 

Before  explaining  the  three  influences  whicdi  have  played  so 
large  a part  in  the  moulding  of  the  far-Eastern  character,  — 
for  it  is  not  Korea  alone  that  has  been  affected  by  them,  — 
we  must  begin  by  examining  the  pedigree  of  the  Korean 
])eople.  This  will  lead  us  at  once  to  their  relationship  to 
China  and  Japan. 

As  has  been  ably  pointed  out,  there  are  two  factors  in  the 
histoiy  of  the  evolution  of  the  language  of  a race.  They  are 
similar  in  kind  to  those  which  help  to  form  the  character  of 
an  individual,  — blood  and  education.  What  is  true  of  the 
language  of  a race  is  equally  true  of  race-characteristics. 
In  short,  two  questions  must  be  answered,  — “ Who  are 
they?”  and  “By  whom  were  they  brought  up?”  Let  us 
apply  this  scientific  diagnosis  to  the  Korean  race. 


112 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


First,  then,  as  to  tlieir  blood.  Both  Japanese  and  Koreans 
are  Tartar  peoples.  They  are  distantly  related  to  each  other, 
and  are  still  more  remotely  connected  with  the  Manchus,  the 
Mongols,  and  probably  the  Tartars,  particnlarly  so  called,  and 
the  Turks.  Ihere  is  an  old  Japanese  legend  which  allegori- 
cally  hints  at  the  kinship,  but  Avhich  national  pride  insists 
upon  constrning  too  literall}',  and  thereby  exposes  to  donbt 
and  disbelief.  I mention  it  here,  not  as  a proof  of  a kinship 
otherwise  known,  but  because  it  is  in  itself  a most  striking 
tale.  It  relates  to  the  tamons  Japanese  general  Yoshitsnne, 
perhaps  the  most  celebrated  warrior  of  that  most  warlike 
land.  Defeated  in  a rebellion  Avhich  he  attempted  against 
his  brother,  he  disappeared  at  once  and  forever  from  the 
scene.  As  Yoshitsnne  he  ceased  to  exist.  What  became  of  him 
was  never  known;  and  speculations  as  to  his  subsequent  fate 
became  in  their  turn  the  most  fascinating  of  problems  to  ima- 
ginations of  a certain  class.  Some  said  that  he  was  dead.  But 
this  was  too  prosaic  a termination  to  so  illustrious  a career  to 
suit  the  dreamers.  So  a legend  grew  to  the  effect  that,  beaten, 
he  travelled  northward,  until,  crossing  first  to  Yesso,  thence 
to  Saghalien,  he  at  last  arrived  iq)on  the  continent  of  Asia  ; 
that  his  fertile  brain  came  to  the  aid  of  his  intense  will,  and 
that,  smarting  under  the  loss  of  that  for  Avhich  he  had  been 
striving,  he  resolved  upon  a magnificent  revenge,  lie  would 
mould  to  himself,  from  out  the  Mongols,  a people  who  under  his 
lead  should  overrun  and  conquer  the  Avorld,  and,  incidentally 
to  this  great  scheme  of  his,  subdue  and  humble  Japan.  His 
most  daring  flights  of  fancy  could  hardly  have  exceeded  the 
reality.  Ilis  career  partook  of  the  supernatural.  It  seemed 
that  he  had  but  to  wish,  to  see  his  desire  fulfilled.  To  conquer 
China,  subduing  Korea  as  a detail  in  passing,  and  seat  himself 
iq)on  the  dragon  throne,  was  the  work  of  a surprisingly  short 
space  of  time.  If  his  own  had  driven  him  from  home,  he  was 


THE  TEIAD  OF  PEIXCIPLES. 


113 


amply  revenged  in  the  glory  that  encircled  him  now.  Northern 
Asia  was  his,  and  even  Europe  trembled  at  his  name,  — for 
that  name  was  Yenghiz  Khan. 

But  if  he  was  the  Yoshitsune  of  yore,  he  never  accomplished, 
in  spite  of  his  superb  triumphs,  the  direct  object  of  his  revenge. 
Her  position  as  an  island  saved  Japan  from  being  made  to  feel 
liis  power,  — a power  to  which  all  else  indeed  bowed.  So  sel- 
dom does  even  the  most  successful  career  intersect  its  former 
path. 

There  are  plenty  of  Japanese  avIio  firmly  believe  this  tale,  un- 
supported as  it  is  by  anything  which  can  be  called  proof.  But 
it  seems  more  just  to  look  upon  it  oid}^  as  an  instance  of  the 
immortality  of  fame.  That  he  lived  on  in  the  thoughts  of  men 
prompted  the  belief  that  he  must  }mt  be  alive  somewhere  in  the 
flesh. 

How  closely  related  are  the  Koreans  and  the  Japanese  it  is 
difficult  to  say,  from  the  fact  that,  belonging  to  the  so-called 
Turanian  peoples,  — that  is,  those  for  the  most  part  without  a 
known  family  relationship,  — the  language  (alwaA's  one  of  the 
strono’est  indications  among’  Arvan  or  Semitic  races)  here  be- 
comes  of  little  use  to  the  determination  of  the  connection.  In 
Ai’A'an  or  Semitic  speech,  root-forms  are  subject  to  such  sIoav 
laAVS  of  variation  that  they  become  very  important,  and  help  to 
fix  degrees  of  relations!  lip  Avitli  great  nicety.  Among  Turanian 
languages  tliey  are  of  almost  no  account.  They  alter,  like  the 
quondam  habitations  of  those  who  use  them,  the  tents  of  their 
own  nomadic  tribes.  A few  decades  suffice  radically  to  change 
the  Avords  in  use  among  a people.  It  is  position  in  the  sentence 
alone  that  is  inA'ariable.  But  this  yields  only  the  most  distant 
of  clues  ; for  though  the  position  in  its  turn  is  subject  to  the 
laAv  of  change,  it  is  not  so  easy  a matter  to  trace  the  steps  in 
the  process,  so  that  two  peoples  quite  closely  connected  in  fact 
betray  it  no  more  than  those  Avho  may  be  A*ery  far  apart. 

8 


114 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


In  the  case  before  ns,  Mr,  Aston  and  Mr.  Cliamberlain  have 
recently  discovered  certain  words  of  common  origin  in  Korean 
and  Japanese;  and  this  discovery  is  one  of  tlie  proofs  that 
the  two  peoples  are  kin,  but  it  does  not  enable  ns  at  present 
to  say  how  near  of  kin.  We  only  know  that  both  belong  to 
what  is-  called  the  Altaic  family. 

So  far  as  is  yet  known,  neither  of  these  peoples  has  the 
slightest  affinity  with  the  Chinese  by  blood.  In  the  first 
place,  as  to  language,  Chinese  in  its  fundamental  concep- 
tions is  as  far  removed  from  Japanese  or  Korean  as  these 
are  from  English  ; that  is,  there  is  as  yet  no  apparent  con- 
nection whatever  between  the  two,'  Not  only  are  there  no  root- 
forms  in  common  between  Chinese  and  Japanese  or  Korean, 
but  the  structure,  the  position  of  words,  is  radically  different  in 
the  two  tongues.  The  same  is  true  of  aboriginal  manners  and 
customs  so  far  as  we  can  observe  them.  Such  observation  is 
not  so  easy  as  it  might  be,  for  a reason  which  brings  us  to 
the  second  factor  in  the  sha2)ing  of  Korean  character,  — the 
education  of  the  race. 

The  histor}"  of  the  development  of  a race  has  many  analo- 
gies with  that  of  the  growth  of  a single  individual,  and  in  no 
feature  perhaps  more  strikingly  than  in  that  of  its  intellectual 
life.  A boy  is  born  of  a certain  stock ; certain  blood  flows  in 
his  veins,  brinffing’  with  its  ebb  and  flow  certain  inherited  ten- 
dencies.  For  the  first  few  years  of  his  life  he  grows  uji  under 
like  influences,  — those  of  his  home.  Then  comes  a time  when 
he  is  sent  to  school.  lie  is  taken  out  of  those  earlier  ways  to 
be  taught  something  beyond  what  hitherto  had  lain  beside  his 
path.  For  a j^eriod  he  is  busied  not  so  much  with  his  own 
ideas  as  with  the  learning  of  others.  He  grows  older  and 
leaves  school.  ComiJete  concentration  in  the  study  of  what 

1 It  is,  however,  quite  possible  that  the  connection  is  not  so  remote  as  would 
appear  to  be  the  case;  but,  as  yet,  this  is  only  hypothesis. 


THE  TRIAD  OF  PRINCIPLES. 


115 


comes  from  witliout  is  changed  into  an  interaction  of  what 
he  thinks  witli  what  he  learns.  He  digests,  assimilates,  gives 
out. 

Now,  all  this  happens  just  as  truly  to  a race.  There  have 
never  been,  since  the  very  earliest  times,  races  that  have  been 
entirely  self-contained,  wholly  self-taught.  Almost  all  of  them 
have  o’one  to  school  abroad.  But  there  is  a most  marked  dif- 

o 

ference  in  the  result,  according  to  where  they  went  to  school 
or  by  whom  they  Avere  brought  up.  European  nations  received 
their  education  at  the  hands  of  relatives,  — of  cousins,  and 
that  of  no  very  distant  degree.  The  far-East  got  theirs  from 
strangers  ; or,  if  they  were  in  truth  originally  of  kin,  tliey  had 
at  least  come  to  be  regarded  as  alien.  In  consequence,  the 
pupils  remembered  the  facts ; but  they  never  imbibed  those 
subtler  influences  which,  if  in  the  least  allied  to  his  own 
nature,  creep  into  a boy’s  heart  while  his  head  is  busy  with 
paradigms  or  formulae.  They  learned  the  letter  of  a civiliza- 
tion without  feeling  innately  its  spirit.  This  applies  to  most 
of  the  higher  and  later  forms  of  Korean  civilization,  but  it  does 
not  apply  to  the  deeper  race-characteristics ; for  in  these,  to  a 
certain  extent,  teachers  and  tauo-ht  a^Teed. 

China  Avas  the  schoolmaster  at  Avhose  feet  Korea  the  pupil 
sat.  So  vastl}^  superior  at  that  time  Avas  the  Chinese  civiliza- 
tion, that  it  is  no  Avonder  that  the  comparatiA  ely  rude  Tartar 
races  should  have  been  impressed  — dazzled  by  it.  They 
adopted  it  AAdiolesale,  and  then  tried  to  liA^e  np  to  it.  This  they 
succeeded  in  doing  so  far  as  outAvard  expressions  Avere  con- 
cerned, AVe  liaA’e  seen  Avhy  they  found  it  difficult  to  do  more. 
Then  there  Avas  another  reason.  Tliat  upon  this  as  a founda- 
tion they  reared  no  subsequent  superstructure  is  due,  perhaps, 
to  the  character  of  that  very  foundation.  If  they  did  but  little 
in  original  deA’elopment,  it  must  be  remembered  that  China 
herself  did  not  accomplish  very  much  more.  In  the  general 


116 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


directions  in  wliicli  she  was  fertile,  the  Tartar  peoples  also  were 
productive,  and  in  those  lines  in  which  they  did  nothing  she 
herself  was  barren. 

The  Koreans  had  some  slight  home  influences  before  they 
received  their  foreign  tuition.  They  were  by  no  means  bar- 
baric, even  at  that  early  period.  They  had  developed  race- 
characteristics  ; they  possessed  institutions  which  have  survived 
in  sj^ite  of  the  new  superiin  osed  mass.  Faintly,  in  places  yet, 
traces  of  the  old  local  color  can  be  seen  throinxh  the  stroimer 
tints  of  foreis’ii  decoration.  That  the  abori<>-inal  traits  are  not 
more  plainly  visible  to-day,  that  the  discovery  and  explanation 
at  the  present  time  of  purely  Tartar  characteristics  are  such 
difficult  matters,  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  most  important, 
perhaps,  of  the  foreign  acquisitions  was  the  very  power  of 
self-])erpetuation  itself;  for  it  was  then  that  the  Tartars  first 
became  acquainted  with  writing.  Before  this  time  they  had 
possessed  apparently  no  means  of  recording  their  thoughts  or 
preserving  the  memory  of  their  actions. 

Now,  the  three  principles  which  may  be  considered  to  be 
the  most  important  parts  of  the  groundwork  of  the  Korean 
character,  and  equally  of  the  Japanese,  depend  upon  both  the 
factors  above  mentioned.  They  were  originally  in  the  blood, 
and  they  have  been  strengthened  by  subsequent  Chinese  edu- 
cation. Both  alike  have  been  affected  by  a very  peculiar 
conservatism,  much  stronger,  however,  in  the  Chinese  than 
among  the  Tartar  races.  The  result  is,  that  they  have  from 
circumstances  acquired  a life  and  a strength  not  properly 
their  own.  They  are  the  crude  ways  of  thought  of  boy- 
hood perpetuated  into  middle  age.  The  race  has  the  sem- 
blance of  being  grown  up  while  it  has  kept  the  mind  of  its 
childhood  ; and  thus  it  is  a living  anachronism.  No  wonder 
that  its  customs  should  appear  so  odd  to  nations  whose  career 
has  been  more  normal.  It  is  not,  then,  to  the  existence  of  any 


THE  P'OREIGN  OFFICE. 


THE  TEIAD  OF  PRINCIPLES. 


117 


traits  peculiar  to  the  race  that  tlie  result  is  clue,  hut  to  the 
permanence,  beyond  Avhat  has  happened  elsewhere,  of  those 
characteristics  common  in  a greater  or  less  degree  to  all  races 
at  the  same  stage  of  development.  It  is  the  crystallization, 
as  it  were,  into  a rigid  form  of  what  should  have  been  but  a 
passing  phase.  It  is  a curious  case  of  partially  arrested  devel- 
opment. The  evolution  of  the  fundamental  principles  was 
checked,  while  the  superficial  details  of  civilization  Avent  on 
groAving.  It  Avill  be  Avell  to  outline  Avith  a feAv  bold  strokes 
these  three  principles  before  taking  up  a consideration  of  them 
more  in  detail. 

First,  tlien,  as  to  their  impersonality.  This,  of  course,  is  the 
state  in  Avhich  all  nations  begin  their  life.  Every  man  is  made 
aAvare  of  external  objects  before  he  becomes  conscious  that  it  is 
he  AAdio  sees  them.  But  most  nations  pass  from  this  objective 
condition  at  a comparatively  early  period  into  the  more  atti*ac- 
tive  state  Avhere  the  body  is  recognized  as  something  better 
than  a mere  automaton.  In  certain  Avaj's  a man  or  a nation 
I’eaches  at  last  another  period  of  impersonality  ; but  the  second 
state  is  Avholly  different  from  tlie  one  Ave  are  noAv  considering. 
The  Tartar  peoples  are  still  in  tlie  first  state  of  impersonality. 
In  this  respect  they  liaA^e  changed  but  little  since  primitive 
times.  The  trait  Avitli  them  is  CA^en  more  a question  of  blood 
than  of  education  ; for  impersonal  as  are  the  Chinese,  the  Tar- 
tars are  more  so.  All  nations  A’ary  in  the  extent  to  Avhich  this 
characteristic  is  still  retained  ; and  the  most  marked  results 
follow  its  absence  or  presence,  as  the  case  may  be.  We  have 
only  to  turn  to  the  history  of  the  French  and  the  English, 
for  instance,  to  see  Avhat  different  political  and  social  modes 
of  life  it  can  cause  a nation  to  assume.  Bureaucracy,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  institution  of  the  home,  on  the  other,  are 
in  part  the  results  of  comparative  impersonality  on  one  side 
of  the  Channel,  and  of  personality  in  the  island  beyond  it. 


118 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


The  second  is  the  patriarchal  system.  Like  the  quality  of 
impersonality,  it  has  survived  from  the  earliest  ages.  Like  the 
other,  too,  it  is  a race-characteristic.  While  the  people  were 
still  nomads,  it  was  a verv  useful  as  it  was  a most  natural  insti- 
tution.  They  wandered  in  bands  for  the  sake  of  defence  and 
sociability,  and  the  head  of  each  family  was  its  most  suitable 
chief  From  the  immediate  family  time  itself  would  extend  the 

%j 

practice  to  larger  and  larger  bodies  of  descendants.  As  they 
settled  down,  they  clung  to  the  ancient  custom,  although  the 
reasons  which  had  given  it  birth  had  ceased  to  exist.  It  con- 
tinued because  to  the  power  of  its  momentum  — if  we  may 
so  speak  of  an  imponderable  — there  was  added  a new  impulse. 
This  accession  to  the  force  of  the  custom  came  to  them  with 
their  foreign  education  from  China,  and  was  due  there  to  a 
concurrence  of  circumstances  which  we  shall  take  up  later. 
Instead  of  ffrowiim  lio'hter  and  more  lax,  the  yoke  of  obedience 
became — as,  under  the  circumstances,  if  it  was  to  continue  at 
all,  it  was  bound  to  become  — heayier  and  more  binding.  The 
duties  of  a son  in  the  former  state  were  principally  out-of-doors, 
and  from  their  yery  nature  less  engrossing.  As  the  herds  were 
exchanged  for  farms,  his  attention  took  on  a more  domestic 
crarb.  To  serye  indoors  Avas  a much  closer  tie  than  to  owe 

O 

obedience  in  the  field.  Obligations  multiplied  and  Avere  more 
compelling.  The  son  seryed  the  father  in  a Avay  he  had  never 
done  before,  and  filial  subjection  Avas  raised  from  the  position 
of  a necessary  fact  to  the  rank  of  a Aurtue. 

Lastly,  Ave  come  to  the  ])Osition  of  Avoman.  The  loAA^er  man’s 
place  in  the  scale  of  nations,  the  loAver,  relatively  to  his  OAvn, 
has  ahvays  been  that  of  Avoman.  Woman,  being  physically 
less  strong,  naturally  suffers  Avhere  jihysical  strength  is  made 
the  basis  of  esteem.  But  as  men  have  advanced  in  civilization, 
graduall}"  a chivalrous  regard  has  been  paid  the  Aveaker  but 
fairer  sex.  Noav,  though  the  countries  of  the  far-East  liaAm  had 


THE  TRIAD  OF  PRINCIPLES. 


119 


their  age  of  feudalism,  in  a general  parallelism  to  those  of  the 
West,  loyalty  took  the  place  of  chivalry  as  one  of  its  attendant 
feelings.  At  the  point  where  woman  elsewhere  made  her  dehut 
npon>the  social  stage,  here  she  failed  to  appear ; and  she  has 
not  done  so  since.  The  history  of  these  races  has  been  a history 
of  man  apart  from  any  help  from  woman.  To  all  social  intents 
and  purposes,  woman  has  remained  as  she  was  when  slie  fol- 
lowed as  a slave  in  her  lord’s  wanderings.  She  is  better  fed 
now,  better  clothed,  cleaner  and  more  comfortable  than  she 
was ; but,  relatively  to  the  position  of  the  people,  no  higher. 
She  counts  for  nothing  m the  life  of  the  race  at  the  present 
time,  as  she  has  counted  for  nothing  in  it  from  the  beginning. 

These  three  traits  developed  into  institutions,  wdiich  I shall 
take  uj)  separately  and  more  at  length  presently.  But  I have 
dwelt  upon  them,  particularly  and  at  first,  because  I consider  a 
full  appreciation  of  them  to  be  vital  to  an  understanding  of  the 
thousand  details  of  far-Eastern  life  and  the  still  more  inter- 
esting methods  of  far-Eastern  thought.  Really  to  know  a 
people,  it  is  not  sufficient  to  be  conversant  with  their  actions ; 
we  must  understand  the  motives  from  which  those  actions 
spring.  Otherwise,  however  well  w^e  may  remember  the  past, 
we  shall  never  be  able  to  predict  the  future. 

With  these  principles,  then,  as  guides,  the  wav's  and  customs 
of  Korea  and  Japan  will  become  capable  of  explanation,  and 
wall  cease  to  appear,  as  they  certainly  do  at  first  to  our  modes 
of  thought,  a jumble  of  unintelligible  eccentricities. 

Note.  — To  prevent  a possible  misunderstanding,  it  is  perhaps  Muse  to  state  that 
what  has  been  said  of  the  Korean  and  the  Japanese  languages  applies,  of  course,  to 
pure  Korean  and  pure  Japanese.  Sinico-Korean  and  Sinico- Japanese  are  simply  mis- 
pronounced Chinese.  The  present  speech  ot  either  Korea  or  Japan  consists  of  a mix- 
ture, not  however  indiscriminate,  of  the  two  classes,  roughly  paralleled  by,  though  much 
more  distinct  than,  the  Anglo-Saxon  and  the  Norman  parts  of  the  English  language. 


120 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  QUALITY  OF  IMPERSONALITY. 

After  many  years  of  diligent  study,  a celebrated  meta- 
pliysician  Avas  once  enabled  to  demonstrate  to  bis  com- 
l^lete  satisfaction  that  the  ego  Avas  the  ego,  — to  prove,  that  is,  in 
English,  that  I am  not  yon  and  that  yon  are  not  somebod}" 
else.  Most  of  ns  are  perhaps  rather  prone  to  act  upon  this 
principle  Avithoiit  quite  so  mncli  previous  application.  Bnt  Ave 
are  of  the  West,  Western.  It  is  to  tlie  far-East  that  Ave  must 
look  if  Ave  Avonld  realize  at  once  the  importance  and  the  insig- 
nificance of  the  idea  of  self  There  the  matter  is  shorn  of  its 
trappings  of  inborn  affection  and  respect ; it  is  I’ednced  to  its 
loAvest  possible  terms,  and  then  these  terms  are  omitted  as  of 
little  or  no  account  in  the  conduct  of  the  race.  The  ego  might 
there  as  Avell  be  the  alter  ego  as  itself,  for  all  the  treatment  it 
receiA’es.  In  short,  personality,  that  great  central  fact  of  con- 
sciousness, Avonld  seem  at  times,  to  the  Western  student,  to  be 
nothing  more  substantial  than  a chimera  of  his  OAvn  brain. 

At  the  threshold  of  yonr  acquaintance  Avith  any  fir-Eastei-n 
people,  3’on  are  made  aAvare  of  a something  more  than  nsnalh' 
separatiA'e  in  the  barrier  between  Amn  and  tliem.  Like  all  such 
instincts,  you  coidd  hardly  formulate  it,  still  less  prove  it ; bnt 
3*011  feel  it.  As  3*011  get  to  knoAv  them  better  and  look  for 
it  to  crumble  aAva3*,  instead  of  a disappearance  3*011  find  that 
3*011  ha\^e  onl3*  approached  nearer  to  a Avail  that  bars  3*0111’ 
progress.  And  the  feeling  is  somehoAv  different  from  any  such 


THE  QUALITY  OF  IMPEESONALITY. 


121 


feelings  3^011  have  had  before.  As  3^011  ponder  on  it,  at  last 
it  dawns  upon  3^011  whaf  it  is  that  separates  3"Ou.  It  is  not 
simph"  a matter  of  two  differing  personalities  ; it  is  a ques- 
tion of  an  absence  of  personalit3^  in  them  altogetlier. 

As  soon  as  3"OU  attack  the  language,  the  suspicion  becomes 
a certaint3".  It  struck  3^11  in  the  conduct  of  the  coolie  wlio 
wa3’laid  3'our  arrival ; 3^011  learn  it  in  tlie  initial  sentence  of 
the  speech  3^011  succeed  in  mastering.  The  man  did  not  seem 
to  be  conscious  of  his  own  identit3^  The  race  does  not  realize 
itself;  while  to  the  student.  Nirvana,  or  the  absorption  of  the 
individual  soul  into  tiie  soul  of  the  universe,  seems  to  have 
descended  from  its  abstract  sphere  of  speculation,  and  become 
an  evei’3"-da3^  fact.  Mirroring,  as  the  speech  of  a people  must 
mirror,  the  character  of  tliat  people,  let  us  glance  a moment  at 
the  qualit3"  as  it  shows  itself  in  the  tongue. 

Conceive,  then,  a language  devoid  of  gender,  number,  and 
person,  — one  wliich  takes  into  account  neither  sex  nor  plural 
nor  individual.  Here  is  a speech  Avhich  at  the  outset  utterh* 
disregards  what  seem  to  be  the  fundamental  principles  in  our 
own  processes  of  thought.  It  denies,  b3"  ignoring  it,  that  ques- 
tion Avhich  not  onl3^  has  perplexed  metapln’sicians  for  cen- 
turies, but  which  is  tacitl3"  assumed  as  innateh"  proven  and 
acted  upon  I33"  the  world  at  large,  — the  conscious  3*et  contro- 
verted distinction  between  man’s  mind  and  the  universe  beside. 
\Vliat  is  mind  ! What  is  matter  ? are  problems  wliich  tlie  far- 
Oriental  solves  b3"  regarding  himself  and  otliers  in  the  light  in 
which  he  would  regard  a house,  — nameh",  simpl3"  as  a material 
fact. 

Let  us  examine  the  three  distinctions,  — person,  number, 
and  sex,  — in  order  clearh"  to  recognize  tlie  force  of  such  omis- 
sions ; and  let  us  begin  with  that  of  person,  for  it  is  the  one 
perhaps  that  most  strikingl3^  exemplifies  the  quality  we  are 
describiniT. 


122 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  IMOENING  CALM. 


Except  by  later  invented  circninlocutions,  there  is  no  vay 
of  discriminating  between  the  tliree  persons.  To  the  original 
Tartar  mind,  I,”  “yon,”  and  “he”  Avere  not  distinctions  recog- 
nized as  founded  in  Nature,  and  therefore  needed  not  to  be  ex- 
pressed in  speech.  Later,  Avhen  a more  complex  form  of  society 
introduced  relative  conceptions  in  addition  to  absolute  ones, 
personifications  like  “ that  side,”  “ that  honorable  corner,”  and 
the  like,  Avere  improvised  to  do  the  duty  of  pronouns.  But 
eA’en  these  are  used  as  sparingly  as  possible ; and  it  is  one  of 
the  commonest  mistakes  made  by  the  European  beginner  in 
Japanese  to  intersperse,  as  the  Japanese  deem  it,  his  coiiA^er- 
sation  Avith  unnecessary  personal  references.  They  are  never 
employed  Avhen  not  absolutely  indispensable  to  make  the  sense 
clear,  or  for  the  sake  of  emphasis.  And  it  is  really  surprising 
to  us  to  notice,  under  these  conditions,  hoAv  superfluous  they 
are  nine  times  out  of  ten.  It  is  usually  quite  evident  from 
the  rest  of  the  sentence  aaLo  is  the  actor  or  the  acted  iqion  that 
may  happen  to  be  meant.’ 

Noav,  in  itself,  there  is  nothing  anomalous  about  this.  It 
is  the  Avay  in  AA’hich  every  child  begins  to  express  himself. 
The  })eculiarity  enters  Avlien  Ave  consider  that  it  should  liaA-e 
been  preserved.  It  is  uoav  grown-up  baby-talk,  as  it  Avere. 
The  man  continues  to  look  upon  himself  as  an  observer  Avhen 
time  has  pushed  him  on  to  take  his  part  in  the  action  of  life. 
An  impersonal  race  is  never  truly  groAvn  up. 

Consider  next  the  distinction  of  sex.  In  dealing  Avith  living 
beings  this  differentiation,  Ave  should  think,  must  certainly  be 
necessary.  In  them  sex  exists,  and  therefore  must  be  recog- 
nized. 'Woman,  girl,  grandmother,  mother-in-laAV,  are  pleasing 
or  disagreeable  facts.  For  such  aa’O  assuredly  must  liaA'e  par- 
ticular names ; and  they  liaA^e  them,  too,  — that  is,  Avords  to 

1 This  is  most  strikingly  exemplified  in  Japanese ; but  a kindred  construction  is 
observable  in  Korean. 


THE  QUALITY  OF  IMPERSONALITY. 


123 


denote  the  objects  themselves.  But  this  does  not  in  the  least 
involve  the  matter  of  sex  in  grammar.  A girl  is  a girl,  and  a 
stone  is  a stone,  and  both  are  things  or  facts ; and  there  the 
matter  ends.  When  Ave  refer  to  such  objects,  “it”  or  “thing” 
is  really  as  good  a Avord  for  the  purpose  as  “ she.”  The  idea 
of  using  them  is  only  shocking  to  our  inherited  prejudices. 
Our  fundamental  conceptions  about  the  matter,  in  the  Avay  of 
grammar,  are  shaken ; but  there  is  no  natural  propriety  that 
is  A’iolated. 

But  are  these  conceptions  in  reality  so  fundamental  ? Are 
they  even  so  necessary  as  Ave  commonly  suppose  I After  a 
sliort  study  of  Japanese  or  Korean,  it  seems  to  me  AA^e  shall  tliink 
not.  In  onr  OAvn  language,  luiAung  passed  through  the  period 
of  inflection,  Ave  are  coming  back  again  in  many  Ava}’s  to  for- 
mer simplicity.  AVe  have  learned  Avhat  can,  Avithout  loss  of  pre- 
cision, be  discarded,  and  Avhat  not ; and  there  seems  to  be  no 
reason  Avhy  Ave  should  not  take  a feAv  more  steps  in  the  same 
direction.  Our  ideas  of  the  tilings  themselA-es  aauU  never  coin- 
cide Avith  far-Eastern  materialism ; but  Ave  need  not,  for  all  that, 
carry  into  speecli  distinctions  Avhich  there  only  become  useless. 
AAhtness,  for  illustration,  the  comparative  simplicity  of  English 
as  against  German. 

Next  comes  the  brute  creation.  Noav,  it  is  sometimes  useful 
to  be  able  to  specify  a coav,  for  instance,  from  a bull,  but  not 
alAA’ays.  There  are  many  occasions  in  AA'hich  either  is  erpially 
to  the  purpose.  In  this  particular  instance  such  occasions  are 
more  numerous  in  the  far-East  than  elseAvhere,  as  there  the 
COAV  is  ncA^er  called  upon  for  her  distinguishing  characteristic,  — 
milk.  Ag'ain,  either  a horse  or  a mare  AA’ill  do  to  carry  a bur- 
den, so  that  all  that  need  be  called  for  is  a horse  (genus). 
AA  lieneA’er  special  stress  is  laid  upon  the  question  of  sex, 
particles  denoting  male  or  female  are  prefixed. 

As  to  merely  fanciful  discriminations,  they  are  eAudenth" 


124 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


more  poetic  than  indispensable.  The  gender  of  an  umbrella 
or  the  sex  of  a shadow  can  hardly  be  vital.  That  la  i)lnie 
slionld  be  feminine  and  le  heau  temps  masculine,  is  rather  a 
surj)risiiig  want  of  gallantry  to  the  fair  sex,  from  so  generally 
gallant  a nation,  than  suggestive  of  any  occult  principle  in 
Nature,  despite  the  fact  that  in  the  Chinese  philosophy  sun- 
shine is  correlated  to  the  male  essence,  shade  to  the  female. 

Number  — that  is,  the  want  of  a jdural,  and  the  consequent 
necessity  of  employing  what  are  called  “auxiliary  numerals” 
— leads  us  into  the  most  interesting  philoso})hical  speculations. 
But  as  it  does  not  bear  particularly  upon  impersonality,  I omit 
it  here.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  such  an  expression  as  “ three 
coolies  ” is  inq)ossible.  “ Coolie  three  man  ” Avould  be  the 
somewhat  circuitous  path  necessary  to  reach  the  idea. 

Here,  then,  subjectivity  vanishes.  The  whole  cosmos  — man 
himself  included  — is  reduced  to  its  objective  existence.  It  is 
the  boldest  expression  of  materialism  the  world  has  ever  seen. 
It  does  more  than  posit  a theory  on  the  subject;  it  assumes 
such  a theory  to  be  a hict. 

Other  details  of  the  language  bear  the  same  impersonal 
stamp.  The  order  of  words  in  a sentence  is  inverted,  as  we 
regard  it.  Tliis  is  in  order  that  the  nouns  may  come  as  early 
as  possible,  the  connecting  particles  being  considered  less  im- 
portant, and  the  verb  still  less  so.  But  nouns  denote  natural 
facts,  while  verbs  express  action ; and  action,  as  immediately 
recognized  by  man  in  the  every-day  life  around  him,  is  mostly 
human.  Here,  again,  a prominence  is  given  to  Nature,  and 
man’s  doings  are  as  much  as  possible  ignored. 

Thus  examples  might  be  heaped  upon  examples,  all  proving 
a materialized,  though  in  no  sense  a deep  generalized,  con- 
ception of  tilings.  It  is  no  return  in  manhood  to  abstract 
speculation  upon  Avhat  may  be  the  essence  of  things.  It  is 
the  most  unpondered  concrete  assumption,  — man’s  first  idea 


THE  QUALITY  OF  IMPERSOXALITY. 


125 


of  tilings  around  him  of  wliitdi  he  himself  is  a part,  before  he 
lias  realized  the  later  consciousness  of  self. 

Having  seen  how  the  quality  finds  expression  in  forms  of 
thought,  let  us  glance  at  it  as,  unconsciously  perliaps,  it  is 
expressed  in  action.  The  traveller  will  not  have  to  wait  long 
for  an  example.  It  will  meet  him  when  he  first  sets  foot  in 
Japan.  As  soon  as  he  has  passed  safely  through  the  ordeal 
of  the  custom-house,  — Avhich  has  been  among  the  first  im- 
portations of  Western  ways,  — he  will  need  something  in 
whicli  to  carry  himself  and  his  traps  away.  He  has  been 
told  that  a jinrikisha,  or  large  baby-carriage,  drann  liy  a 
man,  is  the  vehicle  in  common  use,  and,  seeing  some  stand- 
ing idly  in  the  distance,  he  calls  one  of  them ; for,  in  addi- 
tion to  those  kurumaya  * who  court  fate  by  trundling  the  thing 
slowly  up  and  down  the  highway,  there  are  regular  stands,  ap- 
pointed by  law,  where  the  vehicles  may  be  seen  in  rows  await- 
ing customers.  To  his  call  a score  respond,  hurrying  towards 
him  so  quickly  as  to  suggest  nothing  so  much  as  a rush  of 
autumn  leaves  started  by  a sudden  gust  of  wind  from  the  quiet 
corner  where  they  lay.  In  a twinkling  thev  are  all  about  him, 
and  the  shafts  have  fallen  at  his  feet  as  if  indeed  they  were  but 
leaves,  and  had  come  once  more  to  rest  upon  the  ground  as 
suddenly  as  they  had  lett  it.  As  he  is  onlv  one,  and  his  bag- 
gage, after  all,  is  limited,  he  cannot  use  them  all.  So  he  pre- 
pares to  make  a choice.  He  turns  his  attention  for  an  instant 
to  his  traps,  to  judge  what  he  shall  need,  and  on  turning  back 
again,  behold,  the  men  have  all  vanished,  and  he  finds  himself 

^ '1  he  word  “ kuruma”  (literally,  “ a wheel”)  is  the  pure  Japanese  expression  for 
the  Sinico-Japanese  name  “jinrikisha.”  The  word  “ya”  meant  originally  “a  house,” 
and  then  came  to  he  affi.xed  to  various  articles  or  pursuits;  as  we  might  say  book- 
house,  clothes-house,  etc.  From  denoting  the  place  of  business  the  name  was  extended 
to  denote  the  business  itself,  till  finally  it  was  actually  applied  to  the  man  who  carried 
on  the  trade.  This  very  word,  therefore,  most  ludicrously  typifies  the  impersonality 
ol  the  race;  for  a fixed  plaee,  “wheel-shop,”  now  denotes  a man  whose  sole  business 
consists  in  constantly  travelling. 


126 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


tlie  centre  of  a mute  but  expectant-looking  circle  of  baby- 
carriages,  tlieir  shafts  all  pointed  towards  him  and  bowed  to  the 
earth  as  if  in  an  attitude  of  importunate  entreaty.  He  wonders 
wliat  can  so  suddenly  have  happened  to  the  men,  until,  on 
searching  for  them,  his  eyes  at  last  light  upon  them  in  a group 
in  a corner  of  the  square.  It  speaks  but  meanly  of  human 
nature,  or  rather  of  what  experience  on  his  side  of  our  planet 
has  taught  him  to  be  only  too  true,  that  at  first  he  supposes 
them  to  be  Avrangling  over  his  capture.  But  on  patiently 
watching  them,  as  if  he  were  the  most  disinterested  of  sj)ec- 
tators,  — for  he  is  well  aware  how  useless  interposition  is  in 
such  cases,  — he  becomes  conscious  that  it  is  no  quarrel,  but 
a settlement  that  is  going  on.  The  coolies  are  actually  draw- 
ing lots  for  the  privilege  of  the  opportunity.  One  man  in 
the  centre  holds  the  strings,  and  the  others  select  each  his 
ril)bon,  and  then  abide  in  the  best  possible  humor  by  the 
result.  Imagine  for  a moment  such  a method  resorted  to  by 
our  cabmen  to  settle  a difficulty ! 

Now,  that  such  action  springs  ])artly  from  good  nature  and 
innate  delicacy  or  refinement  of  character  is  doul)tless  true ; 
but  more  inq)ortant  than  this  is  the  underlying  principle  of 
impersonality.  Each  man  has  not  yet  fully  realized  the  divi- 
sion of  the  world  into  self  and  not-self  He  recognizes  intui- 
tivelv  an  equal  right,  or  something  approaching  it,  in  his  fellows 
to  what  he  possesses  himself,  so  that  the  drawing  of  lots  to 
settle  matters  strikes  him  not  only  as  having  the  keeping  of 
the  peace  to  recommend  it,  but  as  being  peculiarly  the  rational 
thing  to  do. 

AVe  see  the  same  quality,  a motive  cause  alike  in  their 
business  and  in  their  jdeasures.  It  shows  itself  in  the  want 
of  botli  combination  and  competition  in  the  one,  and  it  be- 
trays itself  in  wliat  they  consider  to  constitute  the  essence  of 
the  other. 


THE  QUALITY  OF  IMFEESOXALITY. 


127 


We  are  prone  to  think,  and  most  natnrall}",  of  tlie  East  as 
of  a swarminof  mass  of  linmanitv,  — a mass  devoid  of  individn- 
ality.  We  always  think  of  that  of  wliich  we  have  not  personal 
cog’nizance  as  devoid  to  a certain  extent  of  individuality;  but 
Ave  imagine  it  particularly  of  the  far-East.  In  one  sense  we 
are  right.  Both  education  and  thought  are  more  on  a level 
than  Avitli  ns.  The  iiills  and  valleys  of  intellect  are  less  tar 
apart.  But  in  another  sense  we  are  quite  wrong.  This  mass, 
as  Ave  take  it  to  be,  is  distinctly  and  peculiarly  a collection 
of  units.  Like  round  units,  they  are,  Avho,  for  the  amount  they 
contain,  expose  the  least  surface  to  contact  Avith  their  felloAvs. 
They  roll  through  the  Avorld  easily,  lazily  to  themseB'es,  and 
they  touch  others  but  little  in  their  journey.  Charity,  Ave  are 
told,  begins  at  home.  Equally  true  is  it  that  the  quality  Ave  so 
truly  and  prettily  call  “humanity’’  — as  if,  indeed,  it  Avere  the 
essence  of  man  — beo-ins  in  his  oavu  being  before  it  extends 
abroad ; for  it  has  its  springs  in  selfishness,  — that  is,  in  the 
thinking  of  self  A man  must  realize  himself  and  his  own 
feelings  before  he  can  sympathize  with  others  ; and  thus,  para- 
doxical as  it  may  seem  at  first,  personality,  or  the  differentiation 
of  one’s  OAvn  from  other  individualities,  lies  at  the  bottom  of 
that  combining  together  Avhich  constitutes  society.  The  far- 
East  is  impersonal,  and  that  very  impersonality  separates  one 
man  from  his  neighbor.  Each  Ha’cs  by  himself  in  a AvaA' 
unknown  among  us. 

The  effect  shows  itself  A’ery  markedly  in  the  matter  of  busi- 
ness. In  spite  of  the  great  skill  AAdiich  Korean  artisans  of  the 
past  and  Japanese  artisans  of  to-day  hai’e  attained  in  their 
A’arious  manufactures,  these  manufactures  are  still  carried  on 
after  the  most  primitive  fashion.  Each  man  Avorks  for  himself, 
and  Avorks  himself.  He  may  chance  to  be  the  most  renowned 
man  in  the  profession,  and  yet  his  shop  is  hardly  larger  or  bet- 
ter than  that  of  his  neighbor  Avho  is  just  starting  on  his  career. 


128 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKXING-  CALM. 


Co-operation,  except  as  introduced  into  Japan  by  Western 
ideas,  is  uidcnown  ; large  establishments,  under  one  or  more 
heads,  are  ecpially  unknown.  This  is  really  conducive  to  bet- 
ter work  ; so  is  the  tact  that  father  transmits  his  business  to 
son,  and  that  sometimes  for  many  generations  the  same  pursuit 
is  the  distinctive  mark  of  a })articular  family. 

\et  such  isolation  is  in  no  sense  the  outcome  of  self-con- 
sideration, nor  intended  for  self-advancement.  Antithetically, 
competition  is  as  non-existent  as  co-operation.  The  man  is  not 
thinking  of  excelling  his  neighbors  ; he  does  not  seclude  himself 
in  order  the  better  to  distance  them.  lie  does  not  consider 
them  in  the  least.  He  works  alone,  because  such  is  the  natural 
way.  The  motive  cause  is  not  selfishness  ; it  is  just  the  op- 
posite, the  very  absence  of  all  thought  of  self.  We  see  how 
dee^^-rooted  in  his  nature  and  how  strong  the  quality  is,  that 
even  trade  has  so  little  influence  to  alter  it. 

In  Korea,  indifference  on  account  of  this  quality  is  still  fur- 
ther increased  by  the  action  of  the  Government.  The  desire 
on  the  part  of  the  officials  to  make  money  prevents  the  mer- 
chants from  inaking  any,  and  naturally  takes  away  what  little 
incentive  to  work  might  still  remain.  The  getting  of  office  is 
not  dependent  upon  successful  business,  but  business  depends 
upon  the  successful  getting  of  an  office.  The  merchants  have 
the  outward  appearance  of  engaging  in  trade,  but  it  is  the 
officials  who  really  do  business.  But  with  them  there  is,  in 
like  manner,  no  competition,  as  their  operations  are  limited 
each  to  the  field  of  his  own  magistracy. 

One  result  is  that,  in  Korea,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a 
price.  Eacli  man  has  his  own  price,  as  he  has  his  own  shop. 
Price  also  varies  from  day  to  day,  not  from  change  in  value, 
but  from  change  in  caprice.  This,  however,  is  not  so  sur- 
prising as  is  the  general  unwillingness  to  part  with  their  goods, 
except  in  the  smallest  possible  quantities.  Instead  of  hailing 


THE  QUALITY  OF  IMPERSONALITY. 


129 


the  opportunity  to  get  rid  of  large  amounts  by  a reduction  in 
price,  there  is  not  only  no  such  thing  as  a reduction  in  price 
dreamt  of,  but  the  dealer  'will  not  consent  to  the  sale  on  any 
terms.  His  argument  is  that  if  he  were  to  dispose  of  so  much 
of  his  stock,  he  would  be  obliged  to  buy  more,  and  the  price 
would  go  up,  which  eventuality  seems  to  him  for  some  inex- 
l)licable  reason  a consummation  most  devoutly  to  be  shunned. 
If,  then,  in  buying,  say,  half  a pound  of  tobacco,  you  hint  that 
}'ou  will  in  all  probability  shortly  want  fifty  pounds  more,  far 
from  pi’oducing  a favorable  im})ression,  as  you  intended,  you 
will  have  made  of  yourself  an  object  of  suspicion  and  fear. 
This  is  what  takes  place  in  tlie  necessaries  of  life.  If,  instead 
of  these,  you  coveted  certain  luxuries,  such  as  old  curios,  you 
Avould  encounter  much  more  difficult}".  It  is  true  that  the  arti- 
cles lie  patent  to  all,  in  shops  that  have  no  glass  to  shut  them  off 
from  the  passers-by,  and  may  be  touched  and  handled  without 
hindrance  or  objection.  But  to  attempt  to  buy  them  is  a differ- 
ent matter.  If  you  are  bold  enough  to  suggest  such  a thing, 
the  pro])i’ietor  treats  you  much  as  if  you  were  some  ruthless 
brigand  who  would  deprive  him  of  his  little  all.  He  names,  in 
a forced  sort  of  way,  what  he  hopefully  believes  will  be  a pro- 
hibitory price,  and  then  is  horribly  dismayed  if  it  or  anything 
ill  its  neighborhood  is  accepted.  If  at  last  he  does  consent  to 
part  with  the  coveted  object,  he  does  so  under  a tacit  protest 
that  makes  you  feel  as  if  you  had  seized  the  pet  lamb  or  some 
reverenced  family  heirloom.  You  certainly  have  permanently 
altered  the  look  of  the  place,  and  the  gap  will  mutely  reproach 
you  as  you  pass  his  shop  in  your  after  walks.  For  purchasers 
of  your  temerity  are  so  rare  that  for  months  together  the 
same  articles  are  to  be  seen  day  after  day  in  their  prescrip- 
tive corners  of  the  same  shops ; and  trade  Avith  these  men 
is  equivalent  to  a reA’olution  in  the  established  order  of 
things,  as  objects  exposed  for  sale  get  to  be  well-recognized 

9 


130 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


landmarks  by  wliich  the  comparative  stranger  learns  to  tell 
his  whereabouts. 

The  same  principle  that  thus  underlies  and  saps  all  busi- 
ness modifies,  though  differently,  his  pursuit  of  pleasure.  Tlie 
Korean  does  not,  it  is  true,  always  seek  his  pleasure  alone. 
He  finds  it  commonly  in  gatherings  with  other  men, — all-day 
dinners  or  excursions  in  Korea,  which  the  evil  communication 
of  Western  ideas  has  corrupted  into  night  entertainments  in 
Japan.  But  thougli  he  seeks  his  pleasure  in  com])any  witli 
others,  the  com|)any  of  others  is  not  the  pleasure  he  seeks. 
When  he  can,  he  goes  on  a garden  or  landscape  party,  in  which 
the  country  plays  tlie  part,  not  of  occasion,  but  of  cause.  Only 
Avhen  he  must,  for  the  state  of  the  weather,  dine  without  scenerv, 
does  he  do  so.  The  results  in  the  two  cases  seem  to  be  alike, 
but  the  motive  causes  and  the  adjuncts  have  in  reality  changed 
places.  His  off  moments  are  given  to  his  associates,  but  his 
soul  is  Avith  Kature. 

Lastly,  in  the  matter  of  the  affections,  we  see  the  same  thing. 
So  far  as  such  a thing  can  be  true  at  all,  the  far-Oriental  might 
be  said  to  be  possessed  by  impersonal  affection.  The  statement 
is  almost  a contradiction  in  terms,  but  not  quite.  For  instance, 
his  love  is  hardly  Avorthy  the  name.  Of  all  tlie  higher  mental 
and  moral  aspects  of  the  feeling,  he  knoAvs  nothing.  On  the 
other  hand,  his  filial  affection,  in  Avhich  he  seems  at  first  far 
to  surpass  European  nations,  is  largely  a question  of  rigid 
etiquette. 

Thus,  then,  the  subject  of  impersonality  is  linked  on  the 
one  hand  Avitli  the  position  of  Avoman,  and  on  the  other  Avith 
the  patriarchal  system.  To  folloAv,  therefore,  the  chain  of  our 
argument,  Ave  shall  haA^e  next  to  glance  for  a moment  at  the 
ancient  patriarchal  s}"stem  and  its  outcome  to-day. 


THE  PATRIAIiCHAL  SYSTEM. 


131 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  PATRIARCHAL  SYSTEM. 

The  second  of  the  triad  — second  in  place,  because  second 
in  importance  — is  the  patriarchal  s}’stem. 

Probably  all  nations,  during  their  earlier  stages  of  develop- 
ment to  a position  worthy  the  name,  have  lived  under  some 
form  of  patriarchal  government.  Such  rule  was  equally  true  of 
each  as  a whole,  and  of  its  smallest  divisible  parts,  — the  families 
of  which  it  Avas  composed.  Either  in  fiction  or  in  fact,  father 
and  ruler  were  svnonvmous  terms.  But  most  nations  also  out- 

4/  «/ 

grew  the  system  as  they  advanced  in  civilization.  The  nations 
of  tlie  fiir-East  are  peculiar,  not  in  having  had  tlie  custom,  but 
in  having  continued  it  after  they  had  arrived  at  A^diat  for  a 
people  are  years  of  distinction. 

To  this  result  two  causes  were  instrumental,  — the  general 
cliaracter  of  the  people  and  the  advent  of  Confucius.  Both 
China  and  tlie  Tartar  peoples,  Korea  and  Japan,  have  from 
the  dawn  of  history  evinced  a most  remarkable  inclination 
and  ability  to  stand  still.  It  can  hardly  Avith  propriety  be 
called  conseiwatism,  especially  in  the  case  of  the  Tartar  races, 
because  Avhile  these  races  haA*e  shoAved  a great  attachment 
to  their  OAvn  things,  they  have  ahvays  displayed  an  equal 
fondness  for  the  things  of  others.  They  haA’e  invariably 
been  as  eager  to  borroAv  as  tenacious  to  retain.  The  ra- 
pidity to  adopt  foreign  ideas  Avholesale,  Avhich  astounds  us  in 
Japan  to-day,  is  no  neAV  trait.  The  Japanese  did  precisely 


132 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


tlie  same  Avitli  China  and  its  civilization  a thousand  years  ago ; 
and  Korea  in  some  Avays  even  more  markedly  has  pursued  a 
like  course. 

lYliat  this  betokens  in  mind-constitution  it  is  beside  the 
subject  to  inquire  here.  We  have  noAV  only  to  do  Avith  it  as 
a fact. 

The  other  cause  Avas  the  existence  of  Confucius.  This  great 
man,  though  in  no  sense  the  founder  of  a religion,  had  an  in- 
fluence upon  his  times  and  upon  succeeding  ages  as  potent  as 
if  he  had  been  such.  He  may,  therefore,  fittingly  be  compared 
Avith  those  Avho  have  created  a faith. 

On  considering'  the  matter,  Ave  shall  find  that  the  men  Avhose 
teachings  succeeding  generations  have  agreed  to  Avorship  — 
such  as  Buddha,  Zoroaster,  Mahomet  — all  lived  at  a time 
Avhen  the  nations  that  gave  them  birth  Avere  in  a certain  tran- 
sition stage  of  their  life.  (An  apparent  exception  is  to  be  found 
in  Christ;  but  apart  from  the  belief  that  in  other  respects  he 
differed  from  the  rest,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  his  influence  Avas 
not  iq)on  the  JeAvs  nor  yet  upon  the  Greeks,  but  principally 
upon  the  Koinans,  Avho  Avere  not  much  given  to  speculation, 
and  upon  the  northern  hordes,  Avho  Avere  just  starting  on 
their  career.)  These  religious  thinkers  Avere  thus  Avorshipped 
for  their  very  opportuneness.  Their  oavu  greatness  Avas  of 
course  the  cause,  but  the  occasion  AA^as  the  faAmrableness  of 
the  time.  Such  deA'oted  adherence  to  any  one  man’s  Avords 
Avould  probably  be  impossible  noAv.  They  marked  the  stage 
Avhen  the  nation,  to  Avhich  they  belonged,  aAA'oke  to  emotional 
thought,  Avhen  it  began  seriously  to  craAm  for  a hereafter  for 
each  man’s  personality,  and  Avhat  seemed  linked  to  these  Avishes, 
the  idea  of  an  abstract  good.  They  formulated  these  Avishes, 
and  Avere  believed.  At  a corresponding  age  in  Chinese  history 
lived  the  great  Chinese  sage  ; and  though  he  preached  not  a 
relio-ion,  he  Avas  reverenced  as  if  he  had. 


THE  PATEIAECHAL  SYSTEM. 


138 


The  teachings  of  Confucius,  then,  became  la^y,  — a moral 
law  wliich  lias  remained  as  fixed  from  the  time  it  was  promul- 
gated as  all  else  Chinese,  — a fixity  to  which  the  laws  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians  were  as  ephemeral  as  the  hastily  successive 
constitutions  of  French  governments  seem  to  the  rest  of  man- 
kind to-day.  Now,  Confucius  lived  at  a time  Avhen  the  continu- 
ation or  development  of  what  had  been  the  patriarchal  system 
was  still  in  full  vigor,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  should  have 
given  his  attention  rather  to  the  improving  of  what  he  found 
already  in  existence  than  to  the  inventing  of  a new  scheme  for 
society.  He  did  not  start  the  custom,  to  be  sure ; but  finding 
it  in  motion,  he  gave  it  an  impulse  which  has  helped  to  send  it 
down  through  so  many  centuries.  But  it  is  most  unfortunate 
that  he  did  so  ; for,  stamped  with  his  sanction,  it  has  had  a 
life  not  properly  its  own.  Its  existence  has  been  artificially, 
because  arbitrarily,  prolonged,  and  it  has  long  since  outlived 
its  usefulness. 

Instead  of  outgrowing,  therefore,  an  undue  reverence  for 
age,  — a reverence  which  was  at  least  more  natural  when  the 
age  of  the  father  bore  a somewhat  o-reater  ratio  to  the  ao-e  of 
the  son  (both  being  reckoned,  as  by  heredity  they  should  be, 
from  the  birth  of  mankind)  than  Avas  true  as  the  centuries  rolled 
on,  — the  peoples  of  the  Asiatic  eastern  coast  perpetuated  and 
crystallized  a changing  phase  into  a permanent  condition.  Tied 
not  to  their  mother’s  apron-strings,  indeed,  but  as  securely  to 
their  father’s  Avill,  they  have  suffered  from  the  practice  as  surely 
as  a boy  does. 

It  is  not,  indeed,  with  a rude  primeval  patriarchal  system  that 
we  have  here  to  do.  The  lapse  of  time  has,  to  a certain  extent, 
changed  the  external  features  of  the  CTistom.  This  Avas  inevita- 
ble as  society  passed  into  a more  and  more  civilized  condition. 
But  as  the  reason  for  it  became  virtually  less,  it  became  A’irtu- 
ously  greater.  It  passed  from  the  sphere  of  necessity  to  that 


134 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


of  morals.  To  say,  therefore,  that  tlie  father  of  a himily  is, 
till  the  time  of  his  death,  a law  to  his  descendants,  is  to  exjDress 
blit  one  half  of  the  fact,  and  the  least  potent  half  at  that.  An 
intense  filial  piety  on  the  part  of  the  son  must  be  taken  into 
account  to  give  a true  idea  of  the  power  of  the  custom.  This 
filial  piety  is  the  one  great  moral  principle  of  the  far-East.  All 
others  exist,  as  it  were,  in  abeyance.  Truth  is  unknown,  hon- 
esty largel}"  out  of  practice,  and  chastity  a luxuiy  wherever  it 
is  a fact.  Most  of  these  principles  are  preached,  and  tlie  good 
in  books  are  held  up  to  reverence  as  observing  them ; but  for 
every-day  life  they  have  lapsed  by  desuetude. 

After  a peculiarly  aggravating  instance  of  Japanese  house- 
hold cheating,  I was,  one  afternoon,  in  Tokio,  discussing  this 
subject  with  a friend  ivho  had  opportunely  dropped  in.  lie 
had  lived  for  years  in  Japan,  and  had  studied  Korean,  — one 
of  the  three  men  at  that  time  who  had.  “ I will  give  you,” 
said  he,  “ a preface  to  the  state  of  things.  It  happened  to  me, 
but  it  might  as  well  have  happened  to  you.  For  art’s  sake  the 
person  is  immaterial.  The  very  first  Avord  I learned  in  Korean 
Avas  the  Avord  ‘ sus})icion.’  ” 

Around  the  father  there  gathers  almost  a religious  Amnera- 
tion ; for  to  a Korean  there  is  nothing,  from  ministering  to  his 
thousand  daily  Avants  to  shai’ing  his  exile,  Avhich  a son  is  not 
compelled  by  his  OAvn  right  feeling  to  do  for  his  father,  and 
the  more  he  makes  of  himself  a slave  the  more  is  he  by  others 
esteemed  a master.  In  books  of  moral  tales  for  the  young  or 
old,  the  greater  number  of  stories  turn  upon  examjdes  of  self- 
sacrifice  of  this  kind.  In  our  social  system  Ave  commonly  re- 
ceiAm  first  kindness  and  care  from  the  generation  before,  and  then 
transmit  it  to  the  one  to  come.  In  theirs,  a man  pays  it  first, 
and  then  looks  to  his  OAvn  children  for  repayment  of  the  debt. 

The  far-Eastern  peoples  believe  in  a future  life  and  also  in 
a personal  immortality.  In  Buddhism  this  at  last  fades  aivay 


THE  PATRIAECHAL  SYSTE^L 


135 


into  Nirvana ; but  in  tlie  aboriginal  belief,  so  far  as  it  is  for- 
mulated at  all,  personality  is  supposed  to  last  forever.  Granted 
such  a belief,  it  is  but  a step  from  the  reverence  paid  to  one’s 
ancestors  during  life,  to  continue  that  reverence  to  their  memo- 
ries after  death.  The  worship  of  ancestors,  so  called,  follows 
then  directly  from  the  patriarchal  system  ; and  its  observances 
are  logically  in  keeping  Avith  the  idea.  To  call  it  a worship, 
however,  is  misleading.  It  is  simply  a form  of  showing  respect. 
'Worship,  in  the  sense  in  which  it  can  be  shown  to  another 
human  being,  is  paid  to  their  spirits,  as  is  befitting  those  Avho 
were  held  so  high  in  estimation  during  their  life  on  earth. 
Food  is  placed  before  their  shrines,  but  only  to  show  the 
Avatchful  care  of  those  Avho  loved  them  Avhen  aliA’e.  That  the\' 
can  materially  need  or  make  use  of  it  is  held  only  by  the 
loAver  classes,  Avho,  in  matters  of  superstition,  Avill  sAvalloAA’ 
anything  themseh^es,  and  credit  others  Avith  a like  capacity. 
Prayers  are  made  to  them ; but  Avhat  are  prayers  but  the  in- 
Avard  communing  Avith  such  as  are  far  from  us,  and  beyond  the 
reach  of  spoken  Avords  or  Avritten  thoughts  I Stated  times  are 
set  apart  for  these  observances ; but  do  Ave  not  the  like,  aa  hen 
on  the  first  day  of  the  neAv  year  we  call  ceremonioush'  upon 
our  friends  ? 

The  Avorship  of  ancestors  is,  properly  speaking,  only  a com- 
munion Avith  the  dead.  It  is  in  no  sense  a religion,  nor  a part 
of  one.  The  dead  are  not  deified ; they  are  regarded  as  beings 
of  the  same  order  still  that  they  were  known  to  be  on  earth. 
As  depending  upon  the  belief  in  a personal  immortalitA^,  the 
rite  suggests  at  first  the  supposition  that  it  must  be  religious 
itself.  But  though  it  folloAvs  from  an  intrinsically  religious 
idea,  the  idea  is  not,  as  it  Avere,  an  intrinsic  part  of  the  rite, 
although  absolutely  necessary  to  its  existence. 

From  these  obseiwances  depends  a singular  custom, — one 
Avhich  at  first  seems  to  us  a reA’ersal  of  the  natural  order  of 


136 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


things,  — the  emiohling  of  a man’s  ancestors  to  the  rank  con- 
ferred on  him,  instead  of  so  treating  his  descendants.  And 
yet,  of  the  two  methods,  it  is  the  more  strictly  logical.  That 
a man’s  descendants  shall  inherit  his  great  qualities  is  at  least 
doubtful ; that  all  his  male  descendants  shall  do  so,  is  practi- 
cally impossible ; and  that  the  eldest  son  of  the  eldest  son  ad 
perpdiium  shall  invariably  do  so,  Avhile  all  the  rest  do  not,  is 
simply  prejiosterous.  On  the  other  side,  from  what  Ave  now 
know  of  the  principle  of  heredity,  Ave  can  safely  affirm  that 
among  his  ancestors,  and  })robably  along  a tolerably  Avell-sus- 
tained  line  of  descent,  there  must  haA’e  been  a part,  at  least, 
of  the  talent  Avhich  the  man  himself  displayed.  SomeAAdiere 
it  existed,  though  it  might  be  hard  to  fix  the  spot.  For  fear, 
therefore,  of  missing  the  deserving,  all  are  honored  alike. 

On  this  subject  there  occurs,  in  a certain  book  called,  as  Ave 
might  paraphrase  it,  “ Illustrated  Moral  Tales  of  the  Great  and 
Good,”  the  story  of  a dream.  It  Avas  a dream  Avhich  Avas  not 
all  a dream,  not  onlj'  because  it  all  came  true,  but  because  it 
Avas  Avritten  doAvn,  and  so  has  lived  for  years  in  the  memories 
of  successi\’e  generations  of  readers. 

There  Avas  once  in  Korea  a certain  man  by  the  name  of 
Pok.  In  a certain  year  of  the  period  Kong  Sin,  he  came  to 
be  promoted  to  the  literary  felloAvship  called  ‘‘the  improved 
gentleman.”  About  a month  before  he  Avas  thus  honored,  he 
dreamed  one  night  a A’ery  peculiar  dream.  Suddenly  he 
seemed  to  see  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room  three  hu- 
man figures.  The  stature  of  one  of  them  Avas  of  the  size 
of  life.  He  recognized  it  as  his  father’s.  The  second  of  the 
three  Avas  that  of  an  unknoAAUi  man,  Avhose  size  Avas  half  that 
of  a human  being.  The  third  Avas  also  unknoAvn  to  him, 
and  of  a A^ery  small  stature.  As  he  sat  bolt  upright,  staring 
at  them,  the  three  figures  spoke,  and  Avith  one  accord  said 
to  him : “ Before  long  you  Avill  be  promoted,  and  become 


THE  PATEIAKCHAL  SYSTEM. 


137 


‘ an  imjDrovecl  gentleman.’  We  liad  mncli  toil  and  trouble 
even  in  attempting  to  attain  tins  rank.  We  conld  not  com- 
pass onr  end.  Yon,  in  our  stead,  will  win  tlie  lionor  and 
fame  we  so  long  strove  for.  You  also  should  tiy  hard  to  do 
good,  and  thus  leave  to  your  descendants  the  reaping  of  the 
liarvest  of  your  good  actions.”  Then  Pok,  amazed,  asked  of 
his  hither,  “Who  are  these  two  figures?”  And  Ids  father  re- 
plied, “ That  figure  with  half  the  stature  of  common  men  is 
your  grandfather.  Tliat  other,  of  a still  more  diminutive  ap- 
pearance, is  your  great-grandfather.”  All  three  tlien  vanished. 
Tliis  was  what  Pok  told  to  others  when  he  awoke  from  his 
peculiar  dream. 

The  importance  of  apparitions,  as  we  see,  is  measured  by 
their  bulk.  The  race  lias  lon^  since  rotten  over  the  estimat- 

O O 

ing  of  the  size  of  minds  by  the  comparative  size  of  bodies, 
but  the  sarcasm  of  dreamland  has  preserved  it  in  that  world 
whose  denizens  are  purely  immaterial.  The  family  had  been 
gradually  increasing  in  worth.  As  the  increase  of  ability 
was  apparently  one  half  at  a generation,  it  is  open  to  those 
who  advocate  the  theory  that  great  men  inherit  their  quali- 
ties solely  from  the  female  side,  to  believe  that  instead  of 
being  the  result  of  continued  application  on  the  part  of  the 
sons,  as  the  tale  would  have  us  suppose,  the  intellect  came 
in  with  the  successive  mothers. 

But  it  is  rather  the  concrete  of  the  principle  than  the  ab- 
stract that  is  potent  with  the  far-Eastern  mind.  Once  every 
year  a man  must  journey  to  the  tombs  of  his  ancestors, 
there  to  perform  certain  rites.  To  this  visit  attaches  the 
pomp  inseparable  from  the  rank  of  the  pilgrim.  Now,  it 
would  be  out  of  all  keeping  that  a man  of  high  rank  shoidd 
take  a long  and  laborious  journey  in  order  to  do  honor  to 
those  of  meaner  position.  They  must  therefore  be  of  the 
same  position  as  the  man  who  comes  to  visit  them,  and 


138 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


consequently  they  are  ennobled  at  once  to  his  own  station. 
A man  must  not  look  down  upon  those,  when  dead,  whom 
he  has  looked  up  to  when  they  were  alive. 

The  honoring  of  ancestors  is  the  most  important  outgrowth 
of  the  patriarclial  system.  The  next  in  importance  is  the  ques- 
tion of  property  and  its  distribution.  As  Ave  should  suppose 
from  the  general  principle,  the  ownershij)  is  vested  absolutely 
in  the  father.  During  his  life  no  son  can  really  call  Ins  soul 
— still  less  such  dross  as  property  — his  oavu.  The  son  lives 
by  himself  Avitli  his  own  family,  cultiA-ates  his  farm,  and  lives 
from  out  the  proceeds.  Apparently  he  OAvns  it ; but  in  truth 
it  is  all  his  father’s,  both  land  and  chattels.  His  father  can 
sell  it  OA"er  his  head  if  he  feels  so  inclined.  Of  course,  the 
])aternal  position  has  duties  coextensive  Avith  its  poAvers ; and 
a father  is  ahvays  bound  to  support  his  child,  Avhether  that 
child  be  four  years  of  age  or  forty. 

At  the  father’s  death  the  eldest  son  becomes  the  head  of  the 
family.  But  here  the  tAvo  poAvers  cease  to  be  one  ; the  head- 
ship of  the  clan  and  the  OAvnership  of  all  the  property  become 
separated.  If  the  father  dies  intestate,  the  eldest  son  divides 
the  })roperty  among  himself  and  his  brothers  at  his  pleasure. 
If  the  father  leaves  a Avill,  it  must  be  of  a specified  form, 
by  Avhich  tAvo-thirds  of  the  estate  go  to  the  eldest  son,  and 
the  other  third  is  divided  among  the  other  sons.  The  daugh- 
ters inherit  nothing.  In  fact,  if  married,  — the  usual  case, — 
they  have  ceased  to  belong  to  the  family  at  all.  The  large 
proportion  left  in  this  manner  to  the  eldest  son  is  to  some 
extent  accounted  for  by  his  obligation  to  support  his  mother 
and  impecunious  brothers.  These  laAvs  exhibit  a curious  in- 
version of  our  principles ; a Avill  is  not  optional,  and  the 
distribution  of  the  property  of  an  intestate  is. 

There  is,  hoAvever,  a sort  of  lien  upon  all  this  propert}". 
The  head  of  the  family  is  the  ancestral  representatiA’e.  To  his 


THE  PATRIAECHAL  SYSTEM. 


139 


charge  are  committed  the  expenditures  for  the  deceased.  For 
this  purpose,  and  for  this  purpose  only,  he  has  unlimited  power 
over  all  the  property.  He  may  call  upon  any  'member  to 
fiirnisli  him  with  what  he  deems  necessary,  and  may  sell  his 
relatives’  property,  real  or  personal,  for  this  end.  Sucli  occur- 
rence is,  however,  not  common,  as  his  means,  due  to  the  lion’s 
share  he  inherits,  are  ample  for  the  purpose.  On  the  death  of 
tiie  eldest  son,  Ids  eldest  son  becomes  the  head  of  the  family. 
If  he  slionld  not  yet  be  grown  up,  the  oldest  uncle  acts  in  his 
stead  during  his  minority.  And  so  the  post  descends,  the 
eldest  of  the  eldest  being  always  the  head  of  the  clan.  The 
annexed  table  will  make 
this  clear : d,  for  instance, 
is  head  of  the  clan,  u, 
and  c Ijieing  snp})osed  dead. 

Now,  in  ancestral  matters 
touching  c alone,  only  e 
and  / are  affected,  and 
owe  him  obedience.  In 
matters  connected  with  h, 

Ji  would  also  be  included. 

So  Avould  ()  and  />*,  although  of  an  older  generation,  because  d 
represents  the  common  ancestor.  While  if  the  rites  had  to 
do  with  u,  all  tlie  rest  as  far  as  r,  and  tv  would  be  subject 
to  his  command. 

Dependent  upon  the  clan  relationship  is  the  subject  of  names. 
Commonly,  a Korean  has  three  names,  — for  instance,  Yu  Kil 
Chun.  The  first  name,  Yu,  is  the  family  name,  — the  name 
that  he  shares  in  common  Avith  all  the  other  members  of  the 
same  clan.  Next  in  generality,  comes  Avhat  we  may  call  his 
degree  of  relationship  from  the  common  ancestor  name.  This 
is  a peculiar  and  exceedingly  coiiA-enient  appellative.  EA^ery 
kinsman  the  same  degree  removed  from  the  common  ancestor 


140 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


is  given  for  one  of  his  three  names  the  same  cognomen,  and 
each  degree  has  a ditferent  cognomen  from  all  the  other  de- 
grees. Let  me  make  clear  what  I mean  by  an  example.  Sup- 
pose Yu  again  the  common  ancestor.  All  his  sons  would  have, 
let  us  say,  Jin  as  the  degree  name.  One  would  be  Yu  Sok  Jin, 
another  Yu  Ik  Jin,  and  the  third  Yu  Yonof  Jin.  Their  chil- 
dren,  again,  would  all  be  Chun,  as  Yu  Kil  Chun,  Yu  Sok  Chun, 
Yu  Mok  Chun,  etc.  Thus,  though  Yu  Sok  Chun  and  Yu  Ik 
Chun  were  so  far  apart  that  they  had  never  seen  each  other, 
still  on  meeting  for  the  first  time  they  Avonld  at  once  be  able  to 
recognize  the  degree  each  Avas  removed  from  their  common  an- 
cestor, — to  Avhat  generation  each  belonged.  This  is  not  only 
useful  in  ordinary  life,  but  it  becomes  an  easy  criterion  of 
legality  in  questions  of  adoption,  as  we  shall  see  presently. 
This  degree  name  is  decided  upon  by  the  head  of  the  famil}'. 
lie  announces  his  choice,  and  all  his  relatives  must  conform 
in  tlie  naming  of  their  children.  Its  place  among  the  three 
names  is  not  fixed.  It  ma}^  either  come  in  the  middle  or  last, 
lint  this  is  really  no  bar  to  its  discrimination,  as  every  man 
knows  himself  Avhich  it  is,  in  his  own  or  other  generations,  and 
can  therefore  easily  jfick  it  out  from  among  the  various  names 
of  his  relatives.  The  remaining  name  of  the  three  is  eacli 
man’s  individual  name. 

I said  that  commonly  a Korean  has  tliree  names.  Some- 
times he  has  but  two.  In  this  case  his  given  name,  which 
stands  last,  his  clan  name  always  standing  first,  is  spelled  Avith 
tAvo  Chinese  cliaracters,  altliough  pronounced  as  one  Avord,  and 
the  first  of  the  tAA'o  is  the  degree  character,  so  that  even  in  this 
case  Avriting  Avould  giA^e  the  cIcav,  though  speaking  Avould  not. 

So  closely  related  to  the  above  is  the  matter  of  adoption,  that 
it  seems  fitting  to  speak  of  it  here.  It  is  an  exceedingly  common 
])ractice  both  in  Korea  and  Japan.  In  the  latter  place,  indeed, 
it  is  frequently  a matter  of  no  small  incoiiA’enience  to  foreigners 


THE  PATRIAECHAL  SYSTE:M. 


141 


who  have  to  do  with  young  men,  — as,  for  instance,  the  foreign 
j^rofessors  at  the  University  of  Tokio.  In  an  average  class, 
once  every  fortnight  or  so,  somebody  comes  up  to  announce 
his  change  of  name  ; and  not  content  with  one  such  change, 
the  same  man  will  often  change  and  change  about  till  memory 
refuses  to  follow  tlie  endless  complications.  The  instructor 
starts  with  one  set  of  students  ; and  before  the  year  is  out 
the  class  has  apparently  changed,  to  the  extent  of  half  of  its 
members,  into  other  personalities.  "^Yhether  a man  is  eligible 
to  adoption,  by  whoever  it  may  be,  I do  not  know;  but  cer- 
tain it  is  that  he  can  be,  and  frequently  is,  adopted  by  his 
maternal  relatives,  which  is  sufficient  to  produce  a complete 
alteration  in  both  his  names,  surname  as  well  as  given  name. 
(Our  term  “ Christian  name  ” is  of  course  unmeaning  here, 
and  “Buddhist  name”  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  mode 
of  investiture.) 

In  Korea,  matters  are  not  so  confusing.  A man  can  Ije 
adopted  only  by  his  paternal  relatives,  and  only  by  a certain 
number  of  them.  I do  not  mean  simultaneously,  of  course, 
but  consecutively.  To  a Korean  the  name  seems  a great 
part  of  the  personality ; and  indeed  most  of  us  too,  men 
especiallv,  if  pushed,  would  confess  to  a lurking  quasi-belief 
in  the  same  idea.  However  he  may  be  adopted,  therefore, 
a Korean  never  changes  his  name.  And  this  is  only  pos- 
sible, of  course,  under  the  first  of  the  given  conditions.  The 
second  condition  is  for  the  purpose  of  conforming  as  nearly 
as  ])ossible  to  the  process  of  nature,  — - namely,  that  the  elder 
should  adopt  the  younger.  This  would  be  likely  to  arrange 
itself  in  the  actual  matter  of  years  ; but  complications  might 
arise  as  reo-ards  the  family  standiim  of  eldei’  and  youimer  in 
the  matter  of  ancestral  duties,  as  of  a distant  cousin  who  was 
of  a generation  younger  than  the  man  he  was  desirous  of  adopt- 
ing. If,  therefore,  promiscuous  adoption  were  permitted,  it 


142 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


would  soon  throw  into  inextricable  confusion  the  matter  of 
comparative  relationship  to  the  common  ancestor.  To  guard 
against  such  a catastrophe,  the  degree  names  come  in  most 
usefully.  A man  can  adopt  only  those  whose  degree  name 
is  at  least  one  degree  lower  than  his  own.  By  this  means  the 
same  step  is  taken  down  the  line  as  would  be  the  case  had 
the  adopted  been  born  a son,  instead  of  being  so  constituted 
by  law. 

To  enumerate  all  the  various  duties  of  a son  to  a father 
woidd  be  as  tedious  as  it  would  be  difficult.  All  that  the 
utmost  filial  affection  can  suggest,  it  lies  within  his  province 
to  do.  To  obey  his  fatlier  in  everytliing  from  the  pettiest 
minutia?  to  matters  of  the  gravest  concern,  is  but  a tithe  of 
what  is  expected  of  him.  He  should  anticipate  as  well  as 
accomplish  the  paternal  desires.  To  suppose  that  such  affec- 
tion always,  or  even  commonly,  exists  would  be  to  contradict 
Avliat  we  know  of  human  nature.  That  the  outward  expres- 
sion is  there,  is  certaiidy  the  case.  As  for  the  spirit,  it  is 
like  all  ideals  which  we  believe  in  and  to  which  in  our 
better  moments  we  attempt  to  conform  our  lives. 


THE  POSITION  OF  WOMAN. 


143 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  POSITION  OF  WOMAN. 


''E  now  come  to  the  last  of  the  triad,  — tlie  position  of 


woman  in  the  social  economy.  More  properly,  we  may 
speak  of  it  as  her  want  of  position  ; for  the  principle  is,  in 
Korea,  hardly  more  than  a negation,  and,  like  negations  gen- 
erally, has  been  most  influential,  not  in  what  it  denies,  but 


deed,  beyond  analogous  cases,  the  influence  so  exerted  has 
been  indirect  in  its  effect.  In  other  words,  the  withdrawal 
of  the  influence  of  Avoman  from  the  social  system  has  not 
had  the  destructive  effect  upon  that  S3’stem  Avliich  might  have 
been  anticipated  for  it ; for  in  Korea  woman  practically  does 
not  exist.  Materiall}",  physicall}",  she  is  a fact ; but  mentally, 
morally,  sociall}g  she  is  a cipher.  ^ 

It  has  been  suggested,  and  bj"  some  even  maintained,  that 
were  Avoman  to  cease  to  exist  — her  pliA’sical  place  in  repro- 
duction being  taken  by  a principle  of  self-perpetuation  — man- 
kind Avould  speedil}’  descend  through  a stage  of  laAvlessness 
back  to  barbaric  brutality.  With  us  such  a problem  is  pureH" 
imaginarj" ; for  since  Ave  left  our  primitive  condition  of  sav- 
agery, no  such  state  of  things  under  large,  general,  and  in 
other  respects  normal,  conditions  has  ever  been  tried.  Isolated 
communities  have,  it  is  true,  liAxd  quite  apart  from  Avoman, 
but  under  circumstances  differing,  in  other  Avays  than  simply 
bj"  her  absence,  from  the  normal.  AVhere  a lapse  has  occurred, 


in  Avhat  the  absence  of  it  has  permitted  to  take  its  place.  In- 


144 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


there  have  always  been,  in  addition  to  this,  influences  at  work 
sufticient  of  themselves  to  produce  a state  of  barbarity. 

* Now,  in  the  far-East  tlie  exjjerinient  has  been  tried,  though, 
it  is  perhaps  unnecessary  to  add,  hardly  with  that  intent. 
There  could  scarcely  he  anything  more  in  contrast  to  such  a 
thing  than  the  taken-for-granted  immutability  of  a far-Eastei’u 
custom.  For  decades  of  centuries  social  life  has  ebbed  and 
flowed  under  j)recisely  such  a,  to  us  imaginaiy,  state  of  tilings ; 
and  tlie  result  is  not  in  the  least  what  might  have  been  jire- 
dicted.  Instead  of  being  rougher  than  his  fellows  on  the  other 
side  of  the  world,  man  is  there  distinctly  less  rough  and  brutal, 
not  only  in  his  actions  but  in  his  thoughts,  yet  without  losing 
a tittle  of  his  pluck  or  his  determination.  Indeed,  it  may  well 
be  asked  whether  woman,  on  the  whole,  is  a factor  to  an  in- 
crease of  gentleness  of  a race  ; whether  her  presence  as  a prize 
is  not  such  as  largely  to  offset,  by  inducing  rivalry  and  ani- 
mosity among  men,  what  she  engenders  of  tenderness  toward 
herself.  That  she  has  a gradual  effect  toward  an  ennobling 
of  the  character  of  those  to  whom  she  is  a cause  of  inspira- 
tion, and  so  of  the  race,  is  another  matter. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  points  in  the  study  of  the  far- 
East  are  these  instances  of  the  every-day  practice  of,  to  us, 
seemingly  visionary  social  conditions. 

l\Ian,  then,  in  certain  respects,  has  not  suffered  from  a want 
of  woman’s  help  ; and  yet,  for  all  the  influence  she  has  had 
upon  his  character,  feelings,  thoughts,  she  might  as  well  not 
have  been.  When  you  have  said  that  she  is  the  mother  ot 
his  children  from  necessity  rather  than  from  choice,  you  have 
said  all  that  there  is  of  positive  on  the  subject  to  be  said. 
But  this  gives  only  a silhouette  instead  of  a picture.  The 
outlines,  indeed,  are  there,  and  one  who  knows  the  person 
beforehand  perceives  the  resemblance ; but  it  conveys  very 
little  to  a stranger. 


THE  POSITION  OF  WOMAN. 


145 


Tills  is  her  history  : From  lier  birth  to  her  seventh  year  she 
enjoys  her  freedom,  untrammelled  by  those  restrictions  with 
which  society  will  later  entomb  her  alive.  She  runs  wild  as 
any  other  creature  during  this  heyday  of  her  extreme  youth. 
Her  ignorance  of  her  sex  is  her  excuse,  for  she  is  born  to  the 
misfortune  of  growing  up  a girl.  At  seven  years  of  age  she 
is  shut  up, — a seclusion  to  last  her  life.  At  this  age  boys 
and  girls  are  separated,  never  in  a general  manner  to  meet 
again.  Whether  she  calls  up  in  after  life  the  happy  moments 
of  these  fleeting  years  may  well  be  doubted,  considering  the 
tender  age  at  which  they  are  closed  to  her  forever.  To  the 
boy  belongs  henceforward  the  world  ; to  the  girl  only  the  nar- 
row limits  of  the  Avomen’s  apartments,  — a sort  of  secular  clois- 
ter from  Avhich  the  only  exit  is  by  the  A^eil  of  matrimony  to  the 
regime  of  another  household,  in  every,  its  minutest,  particular, 
save  for  the  strange  faces  of  strange  women,  like  the  one  she 
has  left  behind. 

While  she  lives  in  her  hither’s  house,  no  man  save  her  hither 
or  her  brothers  may  look  upon  her ; after  she  has  migrated  to 
her  husband’s,  only  he  and  her  father-in-law  ever  see  her. 
Even  to  those  who  knew  her  before,  she  is  now  utterly  lost, 
for  she  has  passed  from  one  family  bodily  into  another.  She 
has  ceased  to  belong'  to  the  first  and  become  a part  of  the 
second,  and  her  position  in  this  second  household  is  precisely 
as  if  she  had  been  born  in  it.  Only  in  the  brief  moment  of 
the  marriage  ceremony,  in  ivhich  she  steps  from  one  realm 
into  the  other,  — neither  of  them  hers,  — is  she  ever,  during 
the  whole  course  of  her  life,  visible  to  mankind.  Yet  even 
tlien  she  plays  the  part  of  a puppet. 

jMarriage,  in  Korea,  is  a very  important  rite.  It  is,  as  ive 
have  seen,  the  making  of  the  man ; and  in  another  very  differ- 
ent Avay  it  is  the  only  great  step  in  a woman’s  life.  It  is, 
indeed,  no  step  upward  for  her:  she  rises  not  a whit  by  the 

10 


UG 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOKXIXG  CALM. 


move ; Imt  it  is  Avliat  is  really  quite  as  material,  a complete 
change  of  environment.  “ My  people  shall  be  thy  people,’’ 
is  with  her  no  beautiful  expression  of  self-abandonment  to 
another,  but  a statement  of  a stern  prosaic  necessit}".  The 
subject  turns,  not  upon  the  fancies  of  lovers,  but  upon  the 
facts  of  life. 

The  marriage  system  is  based  upon  two  social  principles : 
the  one  is  the  absolute  power  of  a father  over  his  offspring, 
and  the  other  the  existence  of  a species  of  brokerage  as  a means 
to  the  accomplishment  of  the  transaction.  There  exist  a class 
of  men  whose  sole  business  in  life  consists  in  being  matrimonial 
go-betweens,  or  marriage-brokers.  To  them  is  intrusted  the 
whole  management  of  the  affair,  much  as  in  other  countries  a 
man  would  act  in  the  hiring  of  a house,  only  that  here  the  affair 
is  even  more  blindly  committed  to  them.  In  the  hiring  of  a 
house  a man  Avould  ordinarily  go  to  see  the  house  he  had 
offered  him,  whereas  here  no  such  preliminary  inspection  is 
permitted.  The  Avhole  matter  is  performed  by  letter,  and  the 
leap  taken  at  last  A’ery  much  in  the  dark.  Even  this  corre- 
spondence is  carried  on,  not  b}*  the  man  who  is,  after  all,  most 
interested  in  the  result,  but  by  his  father.  The  opportunities 
offered  the  middle  men  of  plying  tlieir  business  lucratively  at 
tlie  expense  of  deceiving  both  parties  are  numberless,  and  it 
Avould  be  more  than  human  nature  did  they  not  occasionally 
yield  to  the  temptation.  Tlie  Ava}’  in  Avhich  a hither  avIio  has 
a marriageable  girl  or  boy  he  is  anxious  to  settle  in  life,  goes 
to  AA'ork  to  accomjdish  his  oliject  is  this : lie  seeks  out  some 
marriage-broker,  and  states  his  ca.se,  — Avhat  he  has  to  offer, 
and  Avhat  he  expects  in  return.  The  broker  then  looks  up 
some  other  man  Avho  has  one  of  the  opposite  sex  on  his  hands, 
and  makes  overtures  to  him.  Letters  on  the  subject  then 
pass  through  the  broker  betAveen  the  parties.  Then,  in  case 
of  agreement  on  terms,  the  marriage  contract  is  draAvn  up 


THE  POSITIOX  OF  WOMAK 


147 


and  respectively  signed.  Tlie  geomancer  is  next  consulted, 
and  a suitable  day  selected  for  the  ceremony.  The  age  of 
the  groom  is  added  to  the  age  of  the  bride,  and  the  star  that 
rules  the  destiny  of  the  tAvo  in  one  is  the  star  whose  day  is 
chosen  for  the  beo-inninof  of  the  new  life.  This  is  the  universal 
custom  ; and  but  few  dare  omit  it,  lest  misfortune  of  one  kind 
or  another  overtake  the  couple  so  inauspiciously  joined. 

On  the  day  so  appointed,  the  bridegroom  and  his  himily 
repair  to  the  home  of  the  bride’s  father,  commonly  on  horse- 
back. There,  in  the  principal  room  of  the  house,  a large  feast 
stands  prepared,  Avhich  is  the  only  unproblematical  bit  of 
luq)piness  in  the  whole  matter.  The  important  question  is 
shrouded  in  doubt.  To  a man  not  inured  by  the  hereditary 
stolidity  of  ages,  the  moment  must  be  one  of  most  unpleas- 
ant uncertainty,  somewhat  like  the  excitement  Avith  AAdiich  a 
gambler,  Avhose  all  is  staked  upon  the  turn,  Avatches  the  danc- 
ing of  the  roulette  ball.  For  the  bride  enters  veiled,  and  so 
she  remains  through  the  Avhole  of  the  ceremony.  This  con- 
sists of  certain  formulae  repeated  by  each  in  turn,  during  the 
mumbling  of  Avhich  the  coiq)le  boAv  thrice  to  each  other.  Then 
the  bride  lifts  her  A’eil,  and  the  groom  for  the  first  time  gazes 
upon  the  face  of  her  to  Avhom  he  is  now  irrevocably  united. 
Lucky  he  is,  indeed,  if  the  vision  pleases  him.  The  principal 
performers  then  A^anish  from  the  scene,  and  the  real  enjoyment 
begins.  The  parents — Avho,  because  they  stand  at  a safe  dis- 
tance from  the  consequences  of  the  act,  are  of  course  immenselv 
pleased  — fall  to  and  refresh  themselves,  indulging  meanAvhile 
in  a highly  commendable  outburst  of  feeling  tOA\"ard  their  neAA’ly 
acquired  friends  of  the  last  quarter  of  an  hour.  The  banquet 
disappears  in  clouds  of  smoke ; and  after  seA’eral  hours  of 
j)rolonged  festivity,  the  families  separate,  more  affectionately 
united  than  one  Avould  suppose  could  ordinarily  fall  to  the 
lot  of  the  couple  more  immediately  concerned. 


148 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


The  will  of  the  two  fathers  is  law.  No  properly  brought 
up  son  would  so  much  as  dream  of  disobeying ; and  as  for  a 
daughter,  she  is  not  consulted  in  the  matter  at  all.  So  much 
for  what  is  usually  considered  to  be  the  most  important  act  in 
a woman’s  life.  Thenceforward  she  is  simply  the  mother  of 
children.  Her  husband  has  absolute  power  over  her,  except 
that  he  may  not  take  her  life,  or  otherwise  too  brutally  mal- 
treat her.  She  liv^es  in  her  own  suite  of  rooms,  and  only  goes 
abroad  heavily  veiled,  or  in  a closed  palanquin,  to  visit  her 
female  friends.  Not  only  no  man  save  her  husband  sees  her, 
but  even  to  him  she  foi’ins  no  part  of  his  life.  A man  may 
be  another’s  intimate  friend  for  a lifetime,  and  yet  he  would 
never  know  what  his  friend’s  wife  looked  like,  nor  even  that 
he  had  one,  save  for  the  social  standing  such  a relation  con- 
fers upon  the  man  himself 

To  our  ideas,  a Korean  marriage  is  a very  odd  thing,  — not 
the  ceremony,  which  is  simply  siii  generis,  but  the  fact.  A 
Korean  marries,  not  because  he  is  in  love,  nor  because  he 
wishes  for  descendants,  nor  yet  to  gain  money  or  to  make  an 
advantageous  alliance,  but  simply  and  solely  to  be  married,  — 
abstractly  as  it  were.  To  him  it  is  the  realization  of  no  par- 
ticular fancy,  but  the  acconq)lishment  of  a general  good,  — a 
step  upward  in  the  social  ladder.  He  loses  nothing,  unless 
the  result  of  drawing  in  a lottery  be  accounted  a loss ; and 
he  gains  a position  in  society.  He  premises  marriage  to  a 
conclusion  of  status ; and  his  premises  are  about  as  important 
before,  and  as  valueless  after,  the  fact  as  are  those  of  the  logi- 
cian. Unless  he  marries,  he  is  accounted  a boy,  though  he 
should  live  to  be  a hundred.  He  would  then  follow  in  posi- 
tion the  youngest  of  the  married  men,  in  spite  of  having  lived 
years  enough  to  be  their  grandfather.  In  consequence,  be- 
trothals take  place  while  still  the  principals  are  children,  and 
are  consummated  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 


THE  POSITION  OF  WOMAN. 


149 


The  etiquette  of  mourning  sometimes  interferes  most  sadly 
Avitli  a promised  marriage,  for  while  the  mourning  lasts  none  of 
the  ordinary  avocations  of  life  may  be  carried  on.  A fortiori^ 
the  consummation  of  a betrothal  — a marriage  — is  impossible 
during  that  time.  The  terms  of  mourning  are  of  a ghastly 
length.  A death  in  the  family  is  thus  a doubly  serious  event. 
Indeed,  death,  being  in  this  manner  brought  into  direct  antag- 
onism with  possible  births,  has  had  a most  marked  effect  in 
retarding  the  increase  of  the  25opulation.  The  imjmlation  in 
Korea  for  many  decades,  not  to  say  centuries,  has  hardly 
more  than  held  its  own 

Difficult  as  it  may  be  for  a household  to  minister  to  the 
wants  of  a living  father,  it  is  an  infinitely  more  troublesome 
event  to  have  him  die ; for  then  a son  is  obliged  to  become 
to  all  intents  and  purj^oses  a hermit  for  the  sj)ace  of  three 
years.  The  father,  of  course,  is,  of  all  a man’s  relatives,  the 
longest  mourned ; the  mourning  for  a mother  comes  next 
in  length,  requiring  a period  of  two  years.  But,  curiously 
enough,  if  she  survive  her  husband,  although  she  has  not 
become  the  head  of  the  family,  which,  as  Ave  haA^e  seen, 
2>assed  to  the  eldest  son,  she  is  mourned,  Avhen  she  dies,  for 
the  same  space  of  time  he  Avould  liaA'e  been.  For  other  rela- 
tiA'es  there  are  correspondingly  long  periods.  Ko  inconsider- 
able jAart  of  most  men’s  lives  is,  therefore,  taken  iqA  Avith 
mourning.  When  a man  marries  he  Avould  have  the  horror 
of  seeing  — like  a sj^ectre  at  the  feast,  a spectre  of  the  Avine- 
ciq)  — a doubled  A'ista  of  terrible  days  of  gloom  to  come,  were 
it  not  that  once  married  the  Avife  ceases  to  belonof  to  her 
OAvn  family.  But  Avhat  might  be  jAerpetuated  through  life 
does  indeed  sometimes  fall  as  a shadoAv  across  his  path  dur- 
ing that  time  in  Avhlcli  neAv  obligations  have  been  incurred 
Avith  no  corresponding  alleviations,  the  period  of  betrothal. 
Each  neAv  bereavement  among  the  doubled  circle  of  relatives, 


150 


THE  LA^s^D  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other,  causes  a further  post- 
ponement of  the  wislied-for  event.  Couples  have,  in  this 
fashion,  waited  for  twelve  years  before  they  were  able  to  be 
united. 

Tliere  is  bnt  one  true  wife,  but  any  man  may  possess  as 
many  concubines  as  he  can  support.  That  they  may  inhabit 
the  same  set  of  houses,  the  permission  of  the  wife  is  necessary ; 
but  this  is  rarely  refused. 

The  children  of  concubines  are  in  a sort  of  neutral  condi- 
tion between  legitimacy  and  illegitimacy.  As  a rule  they  are 
illegitimate,  though  in  no  sense  dishonored  by  being  so,  and 
under  certain  conditions  they  are  legitimatized.  These  con- 
ditions are  in  default  of  issue  by  the  true  wife.  When  this 
happens,  the  children  of  some  one  of  the  concubines  chosen 
by  tlie  father  step  into  the  shoes  the  others  Avould  have  worn, 
and  become  in  all  respects  what  they  should  have  been.  As 
descendants  are  deemed  very  important,  — as  important  as 
ancestors  with  us,  — the  practice  of  legitimatizing  is  universal. 
It  is  a most  common  occurrence  for  the  reifjfnino-  sovereio-n 
to  have  been  the  issue  of  a concubine.  This  is  less  the  case 
in  Korea,  where  the  king  apjjoints  as  his  successor  any  one 
he  sees  fit,  than  in  Japan. 

The  number  of  concubines  being  solely  a question  of  the 
pocket,  the  great  mass  of  the  people  have  none  at  all,  the 
poorer  officials  one  or  two,  and  the  wealthy  many. 

Woman  is  thus  no  companion  for  man.  She  no  more  forms 
part  of  society  in  its  restricted  sense,  than  she  enters  as  a 
factor  into  its  more  general  meaning.  Social  gatherings  are 
exclusively  composed  of  men.  But  man,  after  all,  even  in  the 
far-East,  is  human;  and  it  is  more  or  less  than  human  not  to 
crave  the  society  of  the  fair  sex.  To  satisfy  this  longing,  was 
invented  what  is  best  known  by  the  Japanese  name  “ geisha,” 
or  “accomplished  person.”  These  “accomplished  persons” 


THE  POSITION  OF  WO.MAX, 


151 


form  a class  by  themselves,  whose  duty  is  to  touch  with  a little 
gayety  the  more  serious  feasts  of  men.  We  shall  hear  more 
of  them  later. 

Woman  has  no  greater  legal  than  she  has  social  standing. 
As  she  enjoys  none  of  the  benefits  of  society,  it  is  but  fair 
that  she  sliould  be  exempted  from  its  obligations  and  even, 
in  some  sort,  from  its  penalties.  She  is  known  to  the  law 
simply  as  the  wife  of  so-and-so,  and  so-and-so  is  bound  to 
answer  for  her  good  behavior.  Except  that  the  law  admits 
of  no  such  term,  her  husband  miglit,  with  a certain  justice, 
be  called  her  master.  If  she  is  cauglit  offending-,  he  is  made 
to  suffer,  exceptions  being  granted  for  a few  specified  crimes 
for  which  he  cannot  in  justice  be  held  to  be  responsible.  It 
is  inucli  as  in  the  Roman  law  : a master  was  responsible  for 
the  actions  of  his  slaves  except  in  particular  cases.  The 
relation  also  suggests  the  Roman  ])atria  potestas. 

So  far  as  their  appearance  is  concerned,  women  in  Soul 
may  be  divided  into  three  classes : those  who  are  completely 
invisible,  because  inside  their  palanquins ; those  who  are  prac- 
tically invisible,  because  only  to  be  made  out  as  a mass  of 
clothes  walking ; and,  lastly,  those  who,  though  by  their  daily 
necessary  vocations  rendered  visible  to  the  material  eye,  are 
to  the  Korean  mind  as  completely  invisible  as  the  other  two. 
This  distinction  in  visiljility  arises  solely  from  wealth.  The 
richer  are  carried  through  the  streets  in  closed  palanquins,  at- 
tended by  a maid-servant,  who  follows  the  cortege  or  hastens 
by  its  side.  The  less  wealthy  walk,  closely  veiled  by  a dress 
which,  though  made  after  the  fashion  of  any  other  dress,  is 
thrown,  regardless  of  the  odd  appearance  and  staring  useless- 
ness of  its  pendent  sleeves,  over  the  head  and  held  together 
in  front  of  the  face  by  the  hand  Avithin.  The  A-ery  loAA-est 
class  — such  as  draAA-  Avater  at  the  aa-cIIs,  AA-hich  alAA-aA"s  stand 
in  the  street  — are  obliged  to  go  back  and  forth  bareheaded 


152 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


to  their  occupation,  but  are  never  noticed  in  any  manner  by 
the  throng  that  surges  past.  To  pay  them  the  attention  of  a 
glance  Avould  be  the  height  of  impropriety.  To  accost  one 
of  them  Avoukl  be  not  only  an  insult,  but  so  total  a want 
of  etiquette  as  to  be  looked  upon  as  insanity. 


PKESEXTATION  AT  COUET. 


153 


CHAPTER  XVI, 


PEESENTATIOX  AT  COUET. 


nORTLY  after  my  arrival  in  Soul  took  place  my  ju'esen- 


tation  to  liis  Majesty.  A presentation  at  court  is  certainly 
not  a momentous  affair ; but  it  becomes  something  of  an  event 
in  a land  where  to  Europeans  it  is  among  the  first  of  its  kind. 
So,  at  least,  it  was  considered  by  my  sympathetic  household. 
The  officials  connected  with  my  daily  Avell-being  saw  in  the 
occasion  a prophetic  vision  of  Avhat  might,  in  the  fulness  of 
time,  befall  each  of  them,  and  to  the  servants  it  Avas  a suffi- 
cient reflection  of  glory  to  look  upon  one  Avho  Avas  destined 
so  soon  to  look  upon  their  king.  In  consequence,  I found 
myself  much  in  the  position  of  a debutante  dressed  and  Avait- 
ing  for  the  all-important  moment  Avhen  she  shall  depart  to 
her  first  ball.  I Avas  correspondingly  looked  at,  examined, 
admired,  and  finally  deA'outly  pinnacled,  as  one  aa  ho  had  sud- 
denly become,  by  force  of  circumstances,  an  object  of  almost 
reverential  regard.  Tlieir  simple  ecstasy  instinctiA’ely  called 
up  a vision  of  that  adoring  family  circle  in  all  its  personal 
detail,  even  doAvn  to  the  aged  nurse,  al\A'ays  specially  sum- 
moned in  such  cases  to  behold  her  former  darling  emerging 
from  the  chr}'salis  of  girlhood  to  become  in  an  hour  the 
resplendent  butterfl}^  of  fashion. 

The  moment  for  departure  arrived,  and  I descended  to 
tlie  courtyard,  AAliere  my  palanquin  lay  Avaiting,  Avliile  my 


154 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


household  stood  gathered  on  the  steps  to  gaze.  I crawled  into 
tlie  box,  still  feeling  the  glances  I could  no  longer  see.  The 
coolies  raised  me  from  the  ground,  and  bore  me  from  admir- 
ing  eyes  tlirough  the  gateway  into  the  street. 

The  distance  to  one  of  the  outer  gates  of  the  palace  was 
not  above  a quarter  of  a mile.  Just  outside  of  it  the  palan- 
quin was  set  down.  I crawled  out.  As  I emerged,  I noticed 
sentries  on  either  hand  by  the  side  of  the  gateway ; and 
advancing  toward  it  an  official  came  forward  from  within  to 
meet  me  and  act  as  escort  across  the  great  plain  of  the  outer 
courtyard.  This  area  occiq>ied  several  acres  in  extent,  while 
through  the  middle  of  it  ran  a wide  paved  w'ay  made  of  many 
small  blocks  of  stone.  Along  this  we  walked.’  Around  the 
square  ran  a high  wmll  of  brick,  save  where  gatew^ays  gave 
admittance  to  other  courtyards  beyond.  Through  the  farther 
of  these  gateways  w’e  eventually  passed,  amid  a crowd  of  sol- 
diers, not  drawn  up,  as  would  be  the  case  anywhere  else,  but 
gathered  in  an  irregular  body,  in  an  off-duty  sort  of  way, 
Avhose  business  consisted  a}q)arently  in  being  very  much  in- 
terested in  the  proceedings.  They  w'ere  all  unarmed,  and  quite 
Avithout  officers.  Passing  between  the  lines,  or  rather  squads, 
Ave  entered  another  courtyard,  at  the  farther  end  of  Avhich 
stood  a buildiim  throimed  Avith  officials  Avithin  and  sei’A’ants 
Avithout.  x\t  our  apj)roach  seA’eral  of  the  former  came  out 
on  the  steps,  and  among  them  I recognized  the  foces  of  my 
friends. 

They  Avere  all  clad  in  court  costume.  This  costume  Avas 
striking,  and  not  Avithout  a certain  picturesque  beauty,  in  spite 
of  its  oddity.  It  began  Avith  a hat  made  of  finely  Avoven  silk  in 
the  form  of  a rounded  cone  terraced  in  front.  On  either  side  of 

^ Officials  suminoucd  to  the  jialace  on  important  l)usiness  enter  by  another  gate- 
way, — the  Ilap  Alun,  or  Casket  Gate,  whence  the  name  has  in  some  sort  come  to 
signify  the  king.  The  name  “ Sublime  Porte  ” had  its  rise  in  a similar  natural 
custom. 


PRESENT  A TIOX  AT  COURT. 


155 


this  projected  wing-s,  like  gigantic  ears,  fitted  into  the  lower  part 
of  the  crown,  from  which  they  stuck  out  at  right  angles.  They 
are  said  to  be  appurtenances  to  typify  the  ready  receiving  of 
his  Majesty’s  commands.  The  dress  was  composed  of  a long 
silk  tunic  of  a pale  pink  or  an  equally  pale  blue,  reaching  to 
the  ankles,  and  tied  by  a ribbon  in  a bow  over  the  right  breast. 
Outside  of  this  was  worn  a belt,  rectangular  in  shape,  which 
fitted  the  body  on  the  sides,  its  shortest  diameter,  and  stuck  out 
several  inches  in  front  and  behind.  As  it  would  never  have 
stayed  on  of  itself,  it  was  unostentatiously  tied  on  securely 
by  a silken  cord.  Sewn  on  to  the  tunic  just  below  the  chest 
was  an  embroidered  plastron  in  gold  thread,  representing  two 
cranes  in  flight,  correspondingly  fitted  to  each  other  by  being 
mutually  upside  down.  To  the  lower  ranks  is  permitted  but 
one  of  the  birds.  The  crane  is,  in  some  sort,  a Korean  official 
symbol,  as  the  dragon  is  a Chinese  one.  Around  the  neck  the 
tunic  was  cut  out  in  an  oval,  and  filling  this,  sewn  on  to  the 
inside  of  the  stuff,  was  a white  collar  of  cotton.  On  their  feet, 
instead  of  the  customary  low  shoe,  they  all  wore  high  boots, 
the  tops  of  which  were  lost  under  the  tunics.  These  imparted 
to  the  wearers  a certain  accoutred  appearance,  suggestive  of 
heavy  weather.  The  reason  of  this  reversal  of  the  natural  order 
of  things,  as  it  seems  to  us,  I was  at  a loss  to  understand  till 
after  I had  observed  the  ways  of  the  court,  when  it  no  longer 
struck  me  as  strange. 

They  strode  forward  to  w^elcome  me  as  I mounted  the  stone 
steps,  and  led  me  inside  to  a reception-room,  where  the  Ameri- 
can Minister  among  various  court-dignitaries  sat  awaiting  me. 
As  soon  as  we  had  shaken  hands  and  I had  been  presented  to 
such  of  the  company  as  I did  not  already  know,  a collation  was 
served  to  ns  on  a table  which,  though  by  no  means  large,  almost 
completely  filled  the  room.  It  was  of  foreign  origin,  as  were 
also  the  chairs  about  it,  — gifts  to  his  Majesty  from  abroad.  It 


156 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  J^IOENING  CALM. 


is  one  of  the  strongest  traits  of  Tartar  blood,  that  the  Koreans 
should  have  witlistood  their  use  so  long,  with  China  herself 
using  them  next  door.  As  yet  the  supply  is  very  limited,  only 
his  Majesty  and  the  Foreign  Office  having  any.  Even  in  mat- 
ters connected  with  them,  I more  than  suspect  that  the  chairs 
formed  a part  of  the  portable  ornaments,  and  were  carried 
about  from  place  to  place  as  occasion  required.  At  times 
they  certainly  had  an  individually  familiar  air. 

Among  the  company  sat  the  Lord  High  Chamberlain,  re- 
markable not  for  being  Lord  High  Chamberlain,  — for  that 
is  a dignity  in  which  rotation  in  office  is  not  infrequent,  — 
but  for  having  made  himself  the  first  official  robber  in  a land 
pre-eminent  in  such  official  specimens  of  the  guild.  Barabbas 
fMin  had  a hard  and  cunning  expression,  such  as  rarely  fiills 
to  the  lot  even  of  those  whose  business  it  is  to  prey  upon  their 
kind.  Tie  was  also  distinguished  for  his  relationships.  In 
fact,  he  owed  his  position  and  business  prospects  to  the  most 
important  of  these,  — that  of  being  uncle  to  the  queen.  But 
another  of  them  even  more  commanded  my  admiration  for  its 
apparent  impossibility.  He  was  father  to  his  own  nephew  ; in 
reality,  he  was  adopted  father  to  this  young  man  who  Avas 
court  fi^vorite.  But  as  everybody  omitted  the  adopted  part 
of  the  designation  in  ordinary  parlance,  and  in  the  same 
breath  that  they  informed  me  that  he  was  young  Min’s  father, 
spoke  of  3’oung  Min’s  father  as  dead,  and  added  that  this  man 
Avas  veiy  unlike  his  deceased  brother,  it  Avas  some  little  Avhile 
before  I clearl^^  conqjrehended  the  connection. 

We  tarried  in  this  hall,  tea-drinking,  some  time,  — for  nothing 
in  Korea  is  ever  done  in  a hurry,  — until  at  last  a messenger 
arrived  to  summon  me  to  the  royal  presence.  We  rose,  my 
sponsors  and  I,  bade  good-by  to  the  others,  and  filed  out,  doAvn 
the  flight  of  steps,  into  the  courtyard.  There  AA^ere  three  of 
us : Hong  Ydng  Sik  came  first,  then  the  American  Minister, 


PEESENTATIOX  AT  COUET. 


157 


and  tlien  I.  In  tins  order  we  strode  along,  in  solemn  proces- 
sion, across  one  court,  through  two  or  three  gates,  and  then 
into  another  open  space.  The  long  court-stride  of  Hong  — 
the  official  ceremonial  gait,  something  after  the  fashion  of  the 
stage  walk  of  the  old  tragedians  — lent  a certain  theatrical 
impressiveness  to  our  approach.  The  effect  was  not  dimin- 
ished by  his  costume,  for  he  was  clad  in  pale  pink  clothes. 
To  Korean  notions  he  probably  suggested  something  quite  dif- 
ferent ; for  his  long  stride  gave  him  an  up-and-down  rhythmi- 
cal motion  not  unlike  the  stately  march  of  a crane  Avhen 
walking,  — a bird  whose  supposed  dignity  of  presence,  com- 
pared with  other  fowls,  causes  it  to  be  greatly  admired  by 
both  Koreans  and  Chinese.  I had  ample  opportunity  to  ap- 
preciate his  assumed  manner;  for  to  walk  in  Indian  file  is 
not  the  most  reassurino-  of  ceremonies.  Personally,  I have 
no  scruple  in  confessing  that,  do  my  best,  I felt  I was  not 
that  mixture  of  dignity  and  ease  which  I was  vainly  trying 
to  impersonate.  I came  to  the  conclusion  that  to  walk  in 
public  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  of  accomplishments.  In- 
deed, I mentally  indorsed  the  Hindoo  philosopher’s  maxim  — 
at  least  as  far  as  dignity  was  concerned  — that  to  sit  is  better 
than  to  stand. 

During  our  advance  it  began  to  dawn  upon  me  why  long 
boots  form  a part  of  the  court  dress,  while  low  shoes  are 
universally  worn  elsewhere.  For  in  spite  of  the  occasion  I 
could  not  be  quite  oblivious  to  the  character  of  the  ground. 
The  truth  w^as  that  wherever  the  paving  ceased  there  was 
an  abundance  of  mud ; and  with  all  due  respect  to  one’s 
bearing,  it  was  at  times  advisable  to  pick  one’s  way.  The 
mud  solved  what  had  before  seemed  a riddle.  Whether  or 
not  it  be  the  true  cause  of  the  apparent  solecism  in  foot-gear 
I do  not  know,  but  it  offered  to  my  mind  a sufficient  ex- 
planation. For  within  the  palace  the  officials  are  all  obliged 


158 


THE  LAXH  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


to  go  on  foot,  whereas  Avitliout  they  are  invariably  carried  in 
palanquins ; whence  the  need  of  boots  in  the  former  place 
and  the  luxury  of  shoes  at  all  other  times. 

’When  we  liad  at  last  passed  safely  through  the  ordeal  of 
the  courtyard,  Ave  reached  a flight  of  steps  at  the  opposite 
end,  leading  to  the  open  pavilion,  from  Avhich  ro}mlty  had 
been  scanning  us  the  Avhile.  Doavu  the  middle  of  this  had 
been  spread  a carpet ; but  our  boots  Avere  so  mudd}"  that 
Ave  all  skirted  it,  and  passed  up,  balancing  ourselves  on  the 
bordering  edge  of  stone  instead.  In  this  hazardous  manner 
Ave  scaled  the  eminence  Avhere  royalty  sat.  It  Avas  a build- 
ing like  the  others,  except  that  it  Avas  entirely  open  in  front. 
In  the  centre,  toAvard  the  back,  flanked  by  several  ministers 
and  protected  in  front  by  a table,  Avas  seated  his  Majesty. 

No  sooner  had  Ave  reached  the  top  of  the  steps  than  Ilong 
fell  nearly  flat  on  liis  face,  — the  usual  Korean  prostration  be- 
fore royalty,  — Avhile  Ave  began  tlie  first  of  our  series  of  three 
bows,  and  then  continued  alternateh’  boAvin<>:  and  adA’ancinfi-  till 
the  last  one  landed  us  on  the  farther  side  of  the  table.  His 
Majesty  rose  for  the  intervieAv.  lie  Avas  a man  of  about  thirty 
A’ears  of  ao^e.  In  stature  he  Avas  rather  under  the  averasre 
Korean  height  than  over  it.  He  may  have  been  five  feet  seven, 
inches  Avithout  his  shoes,  Avhich  raised  him  an  inch  more. 

The  king  Avas  dressed  in  Avhat  resembled,  in  general,  the 
court  dress,  and  differed  from  it  only  in  the  details.  His  hat 
Avas  someAvhat  similar  to  that  of  the  officials ; but  instead  of 
being:  black,  Avas  of  a a’ci'A'  dark-blue  color.  It  also  liad  Aviims  : 
but  they  Avere  fastened  straight  up  behind,  as  if  folded  in  rest. 
His  tunic,  Avhich  Avas  after  the  same  ffrsliion  as  theirs  and  simi- 
larly tied,  Avas  of  a brilliant  red,  — in  Korea  the  kingly  color. 
Tlie  belt  Avas  richer  in  material,  but  similar  in  shape;  and  the 
plastron,  instead  of  having  cranes  embroidered  on  it,  had  the 
Chinese  dragon.  In  place  of  the  boots,  he  Avore  the  ordinary 


PRESENTATION  AT  COURT. 


159 


shoe.  This,  in  some  sort,  carried  out  my  theory  of  the  mud, 
as  he  alone  needs  not  to  walk  about. 

Ilis  face  was  singularly  pleasing,  — ■ one  of  those  faces  that 
you  like  from  the  moment  you  first  see  it,  and  that  in  time  you 
grow  to  love  ; and  my  after-acquaintance  Avith  him  taught  me 
tliat  his  face  was  truly  the  mirror  of  his  character.  His  smile 
especially  was  Avinning.  As  I stood  there  Avith  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  mine,  a feeling  crept  over  me  that  he  Avas  really  as  glad 
to  see  me  as  his  Avords  formally  expressed.  Presentations  are 
not  prolific  in  coiwersation.  The  fact  is  its  OAvn  best  expres- 
sion. Like  all  moments  Avhich  are  long  prepared  for,  it  Avas 
quickly  passed.  To  prolong  an  effect  is  in  some  sort  to  dull 
it.  A fcAv  sentences,  and  the  intervieAv  Avas  over. 

Then  began  the  retreat.  Precisely  similar  in  detail  to  the 
approach,  everything  had  to  be  performed  backAvards.  To  turn 
one’s  back  upon  royalty  is  of  course  impossible.  So  Ave  re- 
treated as  gracefully  as  Ave  could,  bowing  at  intervals,  till  Ave 
had  reached  the  mystic  number  tliree,  and  arrived  at  the  same 
time  at  the  top  of  the  flight  of  steps.  Hong,  in  the  mean  time, 
Avas  prostrating  himself  as  he  had  done  on  entering.  Once  at 
the  steps,  Ave  fell  again  into  line,  and  filed  doAvn  them  in  the 
same  order  Ave  had  come.  Then  our  supernaturally  solemn 
procession  took  up  its  march  across  the  courtyard.  We  had 
need  to  Avalk  as  impressively  as  Ave  could;  for,  though  invisi- 
ble to  us,  many  a female  eye  Avas  Avatching  the  sight  from 
behind  tlie  paper  sides  of  the  houses.  Apparently  there  Avere 
only  the  group  in  the  Audience  Hall  and  a fcAv  soldiers  to  gaze 
at  us,  but  in  truth  Ave  Avere  beino-  scanned  bA’  an  ea^er  assem- 
blage  of  fair  ones  gatliered  behind  the  screens.  Cruel  custom 
debarred  them  from  Avitnessing  more  openly  the  ceremony.  But 
nothing  is  insurmountable  to  female  curiosity ; and  Avhen,  in 
addition  to  the  uniA’ersal  inheritance  of  their  sex  in  this  respect, 
Ave  remember  the  long-pent-up  accumulation  of  ages  bequeathed 


IGO 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOFvNIXG  CALM. 


them  from  an  unsatisfied  past,  it  is  no  Avonder  that  the  opacity 
of  paper  proved  no  obstacle  to  their  ingenuity.  Had  we  liad 
the  ears  to  listen,  innumerable  little  pistol-shots  Avould  have 
spoken  to  ns  of  holes  where  delicate  fingers  had  perforated  the 
paper  to  open  views  for  observant  eyes.  It  was  under  such  a 
fire  that  Ave  had  to  conduct  our  retreat  across  the  square  until 
Ave  had  once  more  reached  the  friendly  coA^er  of  the  feast  pa- 
vilion. Here  Ave  Avere  met  Avith  an  enthusiasm  befittino:  our 
orderly  escajAe  from  so  merciless  a scrutiny.  Good  things  Avere 
once  more  set  Ijefore  ns,  and  Ave  had  soon  forgotten  the  diffi- 
culties of  being  en  evidence  in  the  more  solid  delights  of  seclu- 
sion. But  it  Avas  only  an  interlude,  a mere  truce  betAveen  the 
battles  ; for  tlie  ceremony  Avas  but  half  over.  There  Avas  more 
to  come.  There  Avas  yet  the  presentation  to  the  CroAvn  Prince. 
To  add  to  the  aAvkwardness  of  tramping  about  in  evening- 
dress  at  that  hour  of  the  morning,  it  Avas  horribly  cold,  and 
my  muscles  threatened  to  become  even  less  manageable  than 
under  ordinary  conditions.  So  bitter  Avas  it  that  tlie  American 
Minister,  Avho  had  a cold  he  Avas  afraid  of  increasing,  decided 
to  forego  this  uoav  ordeal.  So  Hong  and  I sallied  forth  alone. 
This  time  Ave  took  another  direction.  We  turned  to  the  left 
instead  of  to  the  right,  but  otherwise  Ave  exactly  repeated  the 
experiences  of  half  an  hour  before.  Two,  hoAvever,  is  a much 
less  aAvlcAvard  number  in  single  file  than  three ; and  in  spite  of 
an  equal  number  of  courtyards,  the  distance  did  not  seem  nearly 
so  long.  Besides,  custom  began  to  tell.  I Avas  beginning  to 
feel  as  if  marching  in  solemn  jArocession,  through  the  mud, 
of  a Avinter’s  day,  insufficiently  clad  in  evening  dress,  under 
eager  examination,  AAvas  my  ordinary  pastime. 

Tlie  CroAvn  Prince  received  ns,  installed  in  his  oavu  pa- 
vilion, after  tlie  same  fashion  that  his  father  had  done.  He 
Avas  a little  boy  of  ten.  Seclusion  and  an  enforced  dig- 
nity befitting  his  position  had  giA’en  him  a look  beyond 


PRESENTATION  AT  COURT. 


161 


Ills  years.  His  face  lacked  the  beauty  of  liis  father’s ; but  it 
is  perhaps  unhiir  to  criticise  wliat  has  never  known  a youth, 
and  has  not  yet  arrived  at  manhood.  The  face  as  yet  knows 
not  what  it  is.  The  coinplexion  was  singularly  colorless,  but 
I suspect  that  much  of  this,  so  marked  was  it,  was  due  to 
the  use  of  chalk,  — a common  practice  in  the  hir-East.  His 
eyes  were  very  narrow  even  for  an  Oriental,  and  gave  him 
an  appearance  of  being  half  asleep.  His  dress  closely  resem- 
bled his  father’s.  He  wore  the  same  kind  of  hat,  the  same 
kind  of  tunic,  a similar  belt,  and  like  plastron,  and  his  feet 
were  similarly  encased  in  low  shoes.  Only  in  the  color  of 
the  tunic  itself  was  there  any  marked  difference,  and  this 
was  of  a lighter  shade  than  the  king’s.  His  life  had  taken 
expression  from  his  fsice,  and  left  only  a sort  of  realization  of 
the  treadmill  of  his  position  behind.  He  stood  between  two 
tall  ministers,  Avho  bent  over  and  prompted  him  as  to  Avhat 
he  should  say  before  he  began  to  speak.  He  listened  with 
statue-like  passiveness  to  their  whispers,  and  then  repeated  in 
his  childish  voice  his  lesson.  Only  when  he  got  his  answer 
did  he  turn  to  them  again  for  counsel.  He  seemed  a touchino- 
mixture  of  dignit}"  and  helplessness.  The  ordeal  Avas  rather  too 
much  for  him.  He  was  not  always  so  quiet,  as  I discoA'ered 
on  a subsequent  occasion,  Avhen  I caught  him  peeping  out  of  a 
back  Avindow  at  my  camera,  Avhere  he  supposed  he  could  not  be 
seen,  Avhile  he  Avas  Avaiting  to  give  me  audience,  and  Avhen  I 
looked  iqy  shut  the  sliding  screen  like  a flash.  In  this  instance 
he  acquitted  himself  creditably,  and  no  doubt  felt  relieved  Avhen 
it  Avas  safely  OA*er,  and  he  saAv  me  traA^ersing  the  courtyard  on 
my  return.  As  for  me,  I AA^ent  back  again  to  the  liaA'en  of  AAaiit- 
iug,  and  drank  more  tea.  This  finished  fhe  proceedings.  We 
effected  our  de])arture  under  coA’er  of  a cloud  of  smoke,  Avalked 
once  more  doAvn  the  immense  outer  court,  got  into  our  palan- 
quins, and  Avere  carried  home. 


n 


162 


THE  LA:sD  of  the  moening  calm. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


A DAY  AT  HOME. 


VERY  one  lias  at  some  time  been  conscious  of  tlie  lialf- 


^uilty,  no-business-to-be-tliere-at-tliat-lionr  feeling  whicli 
takes  possession  of  a man  at  a chanipagne-fiavorecl  morning 
entertainment.  The  wedding  reception,  being  onr  commonest 
example,  lias  embodied  the  sensation.  It  is  the  last  twinge  of 
the  mental  conscience  of  the  serious  man.  When  he  loses  that 
instinctive  warning,  he  is  on  the  high-road  to  the  worst  possible 
of  Nirvanas,  — an  extinct  mind  in  a living  body. 

I found  myself  not  unfreqiiently  of  a morning  a prey  to  one 
of  these  spasms.  Because  one  of  the  first  specimens  of  Western 
humanity  the  Koreans  had  ever  seen,  and  on  account  of  my 
friendship  to  their  country,  I received  many  morning  calls ; 
and  I felt  that  my  jiart  in  the  piece  required  for  its  proper 
performance  a little  fluid  to  prevent  friction. 

In  Korea  it  is  never  too  early  to  call.  The  New  Y'ear’s  call 
of  ceremony  at  the  palace  begins  long  before  daylight.  It  is 
another  good  reason  for  not  wishing-  to  be  born  a king.  Per- 
haps, however,  the  head  tliat  proverbially  lies  so  uneasy  may 
not  be  sorry  to  leave  the  pillow.  Fortunately  for  my  own 
comfort,  calls  upon  me  were  made  at  a more  Christian  hour. 
This  was  what  happened  at  a call. 

As  I sat  in  what  I made  my  reception-room,  a servant  en- 
tered through  a hole  in  the  wall ; that  is,  he  pushed  aside  a 


A DAY  AT  HOME. 


163 


pair  of  sliding  screens  let  into  tlie  side  of  tlie  room,  which  was 
cut  out  in  a circle.  In  this  manner  the  room  connected  with 
the  rest  of  my  suite  of  houses.  When  his  long  skirts  had 
rustled  over  what  stood  for  a sort  of  threshold,  — the  lower 
rim  of  the  circle,  a foot  high, — he  announced  the  visitor,  at 
tlie  same  time  handing  me  a strip  of  red  paper,  eight  inches 
by  four,  on  which  was  printed  a series  of  Chinese  characters, 
arraimed  in  a sinerle  vertical  column.  This  was  the  caller’s 
card.  In  origin,  the  card  is  Chinese ; and  with  many  other 
social  customs,  it  Avas  engrafted  upon  Korean  etiquette  from 
the  observances  of  the  dragon  throne.  It  is  made  of  paper 
of  the  usual  thickness,  dyed  a brilliant  carmine  on  the  upper 
side,  Avhich  soaks  tlirough  into  a pale  pink  on  the  under.  On 
this  ground  stand  out  in  vivid  contrast  the  black  characters 
of  the  person’s  name.  Like  tlie  customs  of  every  aristocracy, 
Avhich  is  still  a jiowerful  fact,  and  not  its  shadow,  a respected 
feeling,  the  card  is  despotically  plain.  The  name  stands  alone 
in  all  the  strength  of  its  simplicity.  There  are  no  titles  of  law 
or  of  courtesy.  The  name  means  more  than  any  title,  more 
than  can  be  Avritten,  hoAvever  finely  done,  on  eight  inches  by 
four.  It  read  simply  “ Hong  Sun  Mok.” 

At  a nod  the  servant  disappeared,  to  return  ushering  in  the 
visitor.  I rose.  We  both  boAved,  each  of  us  at  the  same 
time  raising  his  hands  closed,  and  })ressed  against  one  another 
to  the  level  of  his  head.  This,  again,  is  after  the  Chinese 
fashion.  It  may  suggest  the  general  advisability  of  shaking 
your  own  hand  rather  than  the  hand  of  your  acquaintance. 
I purposely  say  acquaintance,  for  it  is  a A'ery  different  matter 
in  Korea  Avhen  a man  has  become  your  friend.  Then  you 
shake  his  hand,  as  Ave  should  do.  I like  the  practice.  It 
raises  hand-shaking  to  its  proper  le\’el ; for  there  the}"  make 
use  of  the  demonstration  only  after  an  absence,  a separation,  not 
at  each  fresh  reappearance  of  the  person,  or  in  consequence  of 


1G4 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


the  coming’  of  each  new  dawn.  With  them  it  means  affection, 
not  affectation. 

We  then  sat  down  again,  and  tea  was  brought  in  and  then 
tobacco.  The  material  bond  of  sympathy  between  host  and 
guest  in  the  far-East  is  invariably  tea  and  tobacco,  as  it  is 
coffee  and  tobacco  in  the  near-East,  and  as  it  used  to  be  wine 
and  cigars  with  us.  This  was  then  supplemented  in  my  case, 
to  the  delight  of  the  visitors,  with  sometliing  from  beyond  sea. 

In  Korea,  as  elsewhere,  tliere  are  calls  of  ceremony  and 
calls  that  are  not.  It  is  only  on  an  introduction,  or  on  a stated 
occasion  of  visiting,  such  as  New  Year’s  da}^  that  one’s  cards 
are  necessary.  Familiarity  and  mutual  affection  soon  put  us 
on  a very  easy  footing.  Especially  was  this  the  case  toward  a 
foreigner.  My  visitors,  having  come  once,  came  again  ; and 
tliey  stayed  a long  time  — sometimes,  I Avill  confess,  it  seemed 
to  me  forever  — at  a visit.  Except  for  a chosen  few,  I tliink 
short  visits,  often  re})eated,  preferable.  This  was  one  reason 
why,  of  all  others,  I liked  tlie  visits  of  the  P^oreign  Office  the 
best.  Its  members  dropped  over  constantly  to  see  mo,  singly 
or  in  a body.  Sometimes  tliey  had  something  political  to  say, 
oftener  not.  On  these  latter  occasions  they  made  of  me  an 
agreeable  recreation  from  the  toils  of  business.  I Avas  very 
conveniently  situated.  Any  one  Avho  has  inhabited  a central 
room  in  his  college,  one  easily  made  a loafing-place,  Avill  per- 
fectly understand  the  situation.  But,  unlike  some  such  visit- 
ants, they  remained  but  a short  time,  business  always  affording 
them  a cajiital  stage-exit.  Like  historic  Bob  SaAvyer,  they  Avere 
sometimes  even  summoned  aAvay ; and  they  bustled  off  Avith 
great  assumption  of  immediate  and  imperative  necessity. 

The  next  man  to  be  announced  Avas  a merchant,  or,  to  be 
more  jirecise,  a vender  of  old  curiosities.  Quite  apart  from  the 
man  himself,  I abvays  felt  an  excitement,  Avhen  he  appeared, 
akin  to  that  of  draAving  in  a lottery  ; for  you  could  never  tell 


A DAY  AT  HOME. 


165 


what  lie  would  not  produce  from  Ids  only  too  caj^acious  sleeves. 
He  always  struck  me  as  a species  of  real  juggler  who  added, 
to  the  surprise  of  discovery,  the  still  further  delight  of  uncer- 
taintv  as  to  what  was  about  to  be  discovered.  The  number 
and  character  of  the  things  that  man  would  produce  from  the 
recesses  of  his  sleeves  was  little  short  of  marvellous.  Books, 
paintings,  fans,  pillow  ends,  — all  came  out  in  turn  from  the  same 
mysterious  emptiness,  — for  the  sleeves  never  had  the  look  of 
concealing  anything,  — and  the  trick  finally  wound  up  with  the 
drawing  forth  and  setting  upon  the  table  of  a large  stone  jar,  a 
brush-holder,  so  thick  and  heavy  that  it  was  unpleasant  to  cany 
it  across  the  room,  as  I found  when  I ti’ied  to  move  it.  This 
capaciousness  of  what  stood  him  in  lieu  of  pockets  enabled 
him  to  walk  the  streets  without  in  the  least  betraying  his 
calling.  If  he  was  as  astute  in  making  a trade  as  he  was  deft 
in  concealing  his  own,  I felt  at  once  that  I was  no  match 
for  him.  I was  probably  right  in  my  self-distrust,  though 
about  this  I was  allowed  to  remain  in  blissful  ignorance. 

After  the  merchant  had  withdrawn  with  all  his  ofoods  in 
consequence  of  failure  to  agree  on  a price,  I heard  a scuffling 
outside,  then  a tap  at  the  paper  screen,  and  a band  of  boys  from 
the  neighboring  school  dropped  in  upon  me  through  the  win- 
dow. For  the  only  material  sign,  as  yet,  of  a desire  to  associate 
with  the  world  at  large  had  been  the  founding  of  a school  to 
teach  English,  and  the  importing  of  an  Englishman  from  Japan 
to  teach  it.^  The  boys  were  very  proud  of  what  little  thev  had 
alreadv  learned,  and  took  infinite  deli«iit  in  wishiim  me  ffood- 
morning  in  my  native  tongue.  One  of  them,  either  more  ad- 
venturous or  more  advanced  than  his  fellows,  next  tried  to  put 
a few  words  together,  and  then  was  summarih’  corrected  bv  his 
more  ba.shful  friends,  with  that  sudden  temeritv  besrotten  in 

^ August,  1883.  This  was  in  January,  1884.  They  had  therefore  Ijad  five  months’ 
schooling. 


1G6 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOEXIXG  CALM. 


3’outli  by  the  all-importance  of  the  fact  at  issue,  such  correc- 
tion being  of  course  oftener  wrong  than  right.  At  this  point 
I was  entirely  forgotten  for  the  far  more  absorbing  contro- 
versy ; and  what  was  begun  as  a would-be  polite  speech  ended 
as  a successfully  maintained  proposition.  But  I turned  uj^  again 
as  a final  court  of  appeal. 

The  boys  were  very  assiduous  in  their  visits.  One  da}^  one 
of  the  most  attentive  brought  me  some  paintings  of  his  own 
brush,  and  they  were  really  exquisitely  done.  To  be  born  a 
Korean  is  already  to  be  born  half  an  artist. 

These  various  good  people  not  infrequently  stayed  to  lunch. 
In  fact,  they  have  been  known  to  stay  on  and  on  for  hours 
with  that  special  object.  Dinner  I invariably  ate  alone,  unless 
I dined  in  town  or  specially  invited  some  one  to  dine  with  me. 
]\Iy  evenings  were  exceedingly  solitary.  There  was  no  happy 
mean.  Everybody  came  in  the  morning,  nobod}’  at  night. 
i\Iany  a night  I have  watched  till  the  small  hours  with  nothing 
but  a pipe  and  the  printed  thoughts  of  others  to  keep  me  com- 
])any.  I had,  however,  one  refuge  from  myself,  in  the  person  of 
the  teacher  of  the  school.  He  was  agreeable,  clever,  and  thor- 
oughly conversant  with  the  far-East,  for  he  had  lived  fourteen 
years  in  Japan.  There  he  had  married  a Japanese  wife,  and 
become  the  father  of  a prett}^  little  Eurasian  girl.  He  inhab- 
ited at  present  what  had  once  been  a temple  in  a high  corner 
of  the  back  part  of  the  Foreign  Office  enclosure, — or  com- 
pound, as  such  a collection  of  buildings  and  courtyards  is 
called  in  the  English  of  the  far-East.  It  was  not  above  a 
stone’s-throw  awa}^  from  my  own  house.  But  to  get  there  I 
was  obliged  to  pass  through  three  gates  and  four  courtyards, 
or  four  gates  and  six  courtyards,  according  as  I went  the  long- 
est or  the  shortest  road.  But  I had  not  my  choice  of  paths. 
I was  obliged  to  go  one  way  and  return  the  other ; for  by  so 
doing  I foiled  the  gates.  The  way  of  it  was  this  : At  nightfall 


A DAY  AT  HOME. 


167 


the  watchman  of  the  compound  went  his  rounds  and  carefully 
fastened  every  gate.  But  as  there  were  a great  many  court- 
yards and  they  all  opened  one  into  the  other,  wdiat  was  an 
inner  fastening  to  the  one  necessarily  became  an  outer  fas- 
tening to  its  neighbor.  It  was,  therefore,  always  possible  for 
any  one  who  started  by  being  wdthin  the  outer  gateway  of 
all  to  wander  wherever  he  pleased,  provided  only  he  went  in 
the  proper  consecutiv’e  order.  Going  in  that  order,  all  the 
gates  opened  to  him, — for  tliey  were  not  locked,  but  simply 
barred  by  a wooden  bolt ; but  to  walk  in  the  other  direction 
was  impossible,  for  the  bolts  served  all  the  purposes  of  locks 
from  the  impossibility  of  getting  at  them.  Tliere  was  nothing 
for  it  on  this  side  but  to  scale  wall  after  wall,  — a difficult  and 
by  no  means  pleasant  task.  Thus,  by  always  travelling  in  my 
unavoidable  loop-fashion  in  one  direction,  I liad  nothing  more 
arduous  to  do  than  to  wdthdraw  the  wooden  bolts  as  I came 
to  the  several  gates,  and  to  remember  to  return  the  w^ay  1 had 
not  come. 

These  nio^ht  excursions  of  mine  must  have  been  a source  of 
great  annoyance  to  the  watchman  who  perambulated  the  com- 
pound once  an  liour  regularly  through  the  night.  For  the  very 
possibility  of  opening  all  the  gates  became,  when  considered 
from  the  other  side,  an  impossibility  of  shutting  any  of  them 
again  after  passing  through.  I therefore  left  them  unbolted. 
So  the  faithful  watchman  spent  his  time  in  continually  reclos- 
ing what  he  thought  he  remembered  to  have  left  securely 
fastened.  One  poor  old  gate  suffered  sadly  from  this  constant 
opening  and  shutting.  It  came  entirely  off  its  hinges,  and  then 
split  into  two  halves,  which  had  to  be  propped  up  as  nearly 
into  their  former  positions  as  possible,  and  then  kept  there  by 
means  of  a heavy  stone  rolled  against  their  lower  extremities. 
I found  it  in  this  plight  one  night ; but  not  perceiving  its  crip- 
pled condition,  pushed  against  it,  and  then  felt  positively  guilty 


1G8 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORXIXG  CALM. 


of  cruelty  Avlien,  after  resisting  my  first  sliove,  it  fell  at  my 
second,  with  a sort  of  groan,  into  a heap  of  ruins. 

On  returning  from  one  of  these  visits  one  night,  I met  the 
watchman.  I say  I met  him,  because  in  no  sense  did  he  seek 
me.  I heard  him  off  at  the  other  end  of  one  of  the  courts,  and 
waited  for  him  to  come  up.  The  light  from  a bull’s  eye  and 
the  incessant  sound  of  a bell  warned  the  only  senses  possible  of 
his  approach.  I had  seen  his  ignis  fatuus  of  a lantern  in  the 
distance  many  a time  before  ; and  as  to  hearing  him,  I had 
done  it  so  often  that  I felt  some  curiosity  to  examine  one  whose 
noise  had  formed  an  inse}>arable  })art  of  my  midnight  reveries, 
lie  and  an  associate  — for  a subordinate  accompanied  him  — 
carried  between  them  three  odd-looking  utensils  of  their  trade. 
The  chief  patrol  held  in  one  hand  a dark-lantern,  — a most 
curious  and  ingenious  invention,  called,  on  the  Incus  a non  prin- 
ci})le,  a thief’s  lantern,  — while  in  the  other  he  swung  a bell. 
The  last  he  only  ceased  to  ring  when,  from  some  reason  like  the 
shutting  of  a gate,  he  had  not  hands  enough  for  the  purpose. 
He  kept  up  this  continuous  ringing  in  order  to  give  an}-  thief 
that  might  happen  to  be  about  due  warning  to  escape.  It  is 
a practice  which  the  Korean  watchman  shares  with  those  cf 
China  and  Japan.  This  certainly  renders  the  occupation  of  the 
]\ight-watchman  less  exciting,  if  slightly  more  onerous  ; for  any 
thief  who  waited  to  be  caught  under  such  circumstances  would 
be  not  only  a knave  but  a fool.  Whether  it  equally  j)revents 
crime  may  ])ossibly  be  doubted.  In  Japan  the  patrols  also 
crv  out  at  intervals,  “Look  out  for  fire;”  but  in  Korea  this 
danger,  from  the  ditferent  construction  of  the  houses,  is  not  so 
imminent,  and  they  walk  their  rounds  in  silence  except  for  the 
bell.  The  lantern  the  watchman  canned  was  a spherical  shell 
left  open  on  one  side,  and  with  a round  piece  of  wood,  like 
a broom-handle,  let  in  diametrically  opposite,  and  })rojecting 
about  eight  inches,  for  the  hand  to  grasp.  The  whole  was 


A DAY  AT  HOME. 


169 


covered  with  gaudily  painted  paper,  on  whicli  were  pasted  Chi- 
nese characters  and  other  designs,  betokening  long  lite,  happi- 
ness, and  other  desirable  tidbits  ol  lortnne.  by  so  much  taste 
is  Avasted  on  the  dark  is  a problem ; for,  being  on  the  outside, 
they  are  of  course  invisible  both  to  the  patrol  and  to  any  one 
else.  However,  the  feeling  tliat  tliey  are  there  may  possibly 
be  found  consoling  in  the  long  hours  of  the  night.  But  the 
real  beauty  of  the  concern  lies  Avitliin.  On  the  inside  is  SAvnng, 
by  a system  of  double  joints,  the  tin  frame  for  a candle,  Avliich, 
by  this  means,  has  motion  in  any  direction.  The  object  is  that 
tlie  broom-liandle  may  be  held  in  the  hand  in  any  position, 
Avliile  the  lantern  is  pointed  like  a blunderbuss  at  the  person 
to  be  inspected,  Avithont,  in  so  doing,  displacing  the  candle, 
Avhose  stand  is  properly  Aveighted  to  fall,  from  the  vertical. 
The  AA’hole  suggested  the  scooped-ont  pumpkin  of  one’s  boy- 
hood, carved  by  youthful  ingenuity  to  represent  some  diabolical 
ap|)arition. 

To  the  associate  fell  the  duty  of  carrying  the  third  imple- 
ment, — an  iron  bar  fitted  Avith  iron  chains.  This  served  for 
handcuffing.  The  bar  Avas  the  only  one  of  the  tools  not  in 
ordinary  use.  The  darkness  saved  me  from  discovering  how 
rustA^  it  had  groAvn. 

The  patrol  suffered  my  inspection  with  great  forbearance, 
considering  hoAv  reA^ersed  Avere  the  parts  Ave  Avere  respectively 
supposed  to  play,  and  I left  him  Avith  a sense  of  having  not 
a little  surprised  the  good  man  ; but  I judge  that  he  may  liaA^e 
found  some  consolation  in  tlie  liglit  the  meeting  threAv  upoii 
a certain  hitherto  mysterious  point.  The  secret  of  the  gates 
ajar  must  from  that  moment  have  ceased  to  disturb  his  nightly 
cogitations. 


170 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORXIXG  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SLEEPING  WAVES. 

OXE  clay  a dinner  was  given  me  by  the  Governor  of  the 
province.  Despite  the  fact  that  it  was  not  the  season 
for  country  parties, — the  month  was  January, — he  had,  for 
certain  reasons,  chosen  a spot  outside  the  city  in  which  to  give 
it.  In  virtue  of  his  office,  he  was  the  temporary  owner  of  a 
villa  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Ilan  ; and  whether  it  was  the  fact 
of  precarious  possession,  or  a sense  of  the  peculiar  fitness  of  the 
place  for  festivities,  he  had  fixed  upon  this  villa  for  the  occa- 
sion. We  were  not,  on  that  account,  however,  to  be  deprived 
of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  those  city  buildings  of  Avhich  he  Avas 
ruler,  for  Ave  Avere  first  to  rendezvous  at  the  province-house. 

Accordingly,  an  hour  before  noon,  Ave  set  out  from  home 
in  jialancpiins,  and  Avere  carried  across  the  city  and  through  the 
Avest  gate,  just  outside  of  Avhich  stands  the  magistracy  for  the 
proAunce  of  Kyong  Keui  To.'  The  building  is  placed  Avithout 
the  gates  for  technical  reasons,  but  for  convenience  is  put  as 
near  as  possible  to  Avhat  it  is  not  alloAved  to  enter.  The  scrolls 
on  its  gates  shoAved  it  to  be  a public  building,  and  the  number 
of  soldiers  that  Avere  lounging  about  outside  gave  further  evi- 
dence of  its  being  in  use  at  the  present  time.  Entering  by  the 
gateAvay,  an  imposing  structure,  even  as  among  magistracies,  Ave 

^ Thfi  words  mean  “five  parts,  or  whole”  (Keni),  “of  the  capital”  (Kyong), 
“ province  ” (To).  The  five  parts  meant  are  the  north,  the  east,  the  west,  tlie  south, 
and  the  centre.  The  idea  is  Chinese. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SLEEPING  AVAYES. 


171 


came  into  the  outer  courtyard.  In  one  corner  of  it  were  stacked 
spears,  as  we  should  stack  muskets.  These  suggestively  Tartar 
implements  are,  however,  more  for  effect  than  for  service,  as 
firearms  have  been  in  use  in  the  far-East  somewhat  longer  than 
witli  us.  At  this  spot  our  palanquins  were  set  down,  and  get- 
tino-  out  we  walked  through  the  inner  court  to  the  hall  where 
the  Governor  awaited  our  coming.  An  inner  room  was  fur- 
nished with  a sort  of  by-the-way  collation.  Tea  was  imme- 
diately served,  and  I noticed  that  the  bowls  were  different  from 
any  I had  seen  before.  They  were  rudely  enough  made,  but 
the  colors  of  the  butterflies  and  flowers  upon  them  were  really 
beautiful.  They  turned  out  to  be  of  Korean  manufacture  of 
two  years  before.  Previous  to  that  time,  for  centuries,  Korean 
pottery  had  been  plain,  either  unglazed  or  glazed,  of  a sombre 
greenish  hue.  In  the  past  the  pottery  of  the  peninsula  was 
very  famous ; and  this  was  the  first  symptom  of  a desire  to 
revive,  though  with  color  in  place  of  form,  what  has  become 
Avith  them  a lost  art. 

The  tea  is  drunk  after  the  Chinese  fashion,  from  covered 
boAvls  as  much  larger  than  our  ordinary  teacups  as  ours  are 
larger  than  the  Japanese.  The  lid,  which  always  rests,  the 
concave  side  downward,  OA^er  the  cup,  and  ft-om  being  a lit- 
tle smaller  fits  inside  of  it,  is  tilted  slightly  aAvay  from  one 
Avhen  the  Avhole  is  raised  to  drink,  and  thus  a zone  opened 
through  Avhich  the  liquid  flows  out.  It  is  then  replaced  again, 
as  before,  in  order  to  keep  the  tea  hot.  A misuse  of  this  lid, 
either  through  ignorance  or  intent,  gave  rise  to  the  saucer, 
AA'lnch  is  purely  a European  invention,  quite  unknoAAUi  in  the 
far-East.  In  all  probability,  some  cup  and  its  lid  Avere  origi- 
nally shipped  home  together ; and  those  Avho  receiA^ed  them, 
recognizing  their  interdependence  but  ignorant  of  its  char- 
acter, suggested  this  connection.  If  Ave  are  prone  to  regard 
far-Eastern  methods  as  our  oavu  upside  doAAii,  Ave  must 


172 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKXIHG  CALM. 


certainly  admit  that  for  once  the  far-Orientals  can  return  the 
compliment. 

These  little  social  amenities  took  jdace  in  a small  room  on 
one  side  of  the  building,  the  centre  being  occupied,  as  is  the 
case  in  buildings  of  this  class,  by  an  open  hall-wa}’  closed  only 
at  the  back.  The  room  was  full  of  people  ; for  though  we  were 
but  four,  entertainers  and  entertained  included,  the  space  near 
the  entrance  was  crowded  with  servants  standing  u]).  The 
higher  the  rank  of  an  official,  the  longer  his  train  of  followers, 
Avliose  duty  in  life  apparentl}^  consists  in  being  constantly 
visible.  They  play  the  part  of  chorus,  looking  becomingly 
grave  at  what  is  serious,  and  tittering  most  appreciatively 
Avhenever  anything  funny  is  said. 

After  a smoke,  Ave  all  set  out  again  for  the  river,  but  in 
as  scattered  a condition  as  Ave  had  come  so  far.  From  tiie 
magistracy  to  the  \dlla  Avas  a distance  of  tAvo  or  three  miles 
through  the  suburbs  of  the  toAvn,  — collections  of  villages  inter- 
spersed Avith  fields.  As  these  fields  Avere  for  upland  crops,  and 
it  Avas  inidAvinter,  there  Avas  but  little  beauty.  What  pictu- 
resqueness there  Avas,  came  from  the  houses  and  from  the 
exceeding  uneA’enness  of  the  road.  Xot  being  used  for  Avheels, 
— that  great  cause  of  roads,  properly  so  called,  — it  Avas  noth- 
ing but  a track  over  a country  by  no  means  leA’el.  Wlierever 
it  Avas  not  frozen  hard,  it  Avas  deep  in  spongy  mud  ; and  the 
bulls  of  burden  — the  only  frequenters  of  it  except  men  — in- 
creased the  Auleness  of  its  condition.  To  their  tranqding  Avere 
largely  ‘due  the  sloughs  Avhich,  on  a slight  rise  in  tempera- 
ture, principally  comjAOsed  it.  It  came  into  existence  by  being 
used,  and  continued  to  exist  for  the  same  reason. 

At  every  mile  or  so  the  palanquin-bearers  deposited  their 
burden  at  the  side  of  the  street,  — Avhich  Avas  almost  more  of 
a relief  to  the  carried  than  to  the  carriers ; for  betAveen  the  cold 
and  the  cramped  position  I had  reached  that  most  Avretched 


ROSSIXC  A STKKAM. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SLEEPING  WAVES. 


173 


aggravation  of  misery,  impotence  of  the  mnscles  and  yet  aching 
of  the  nerves.  As  soon  as  we  stopped,  the  bystanders  crowded 
around  to  get  a glimpse  of  me.  Bnt  to  receive  such  attention, 
it  was  by  no  means  necessary  to  wait  for  the  stopping-places. 
In  the  midst  of  the  journey,  Avhile  actually  in  motion,  the  very 
cnrions  felt  no  hesitation  in  thrusting  their  heads  fairly  inside 
the  palanquin  to  peer  at  me. 

A large  part  of  the  scenery  consisted  of  graveyards.  These 
were  not  fenced-in  enclosures,  bnt  collections  of  mounds  dot- 
ting the  hills.  Occasionally  a stone  slab  stuck  up  from  out 
the  withered  grass ; bnt  such  memento  was  the  exception,  not 
the  rule.  Usually  the  graves  were  only  rounded  swellings 
in  the  grass-covered  surface  of  the  treeless  slopes.  The  hill- 
tops, not  the  valleys,  had  been  chosen  as  their  site. 

With  all  their  reverence  for  their  departed  ancestors,  the 
Koreans  recognize  that,  after  all,  the  land  is  more  useful  to  the 
living  than  to  the  dead.  Graveyards,  or  more  properly  collec- 
tions of  graves,  always  occupy  the  hillsides,  not,  so  far  as  I 
could  learn,  from  any  superstition  connected  with  the  position, 
but  solely  because,  so  placed,  they  interfere  less  with  the  wants 
of  the  inhabitants.  The  valleys  are  needed  for  roads,  rice- 
fields,  and  houses,  while  the  hillsides  are  even  less  valuable 
under  the  Korean  system  of  agriculture  than  they  are  with  us. 
They  are  therefore  given  to  the  dead. 

How  the  common  people  became  possessed  of  a place  to 
bury  their  dead  is  a species  of  mystery,  for  to  them  the  seizing 
of  mountains  for  the  purpose  is  not  permitted.  This  practice  is 
a perquisite  of  the  official  class.  To  every  official  belongs  some 
particular  mountain  which  is  his  private  family  tomb.  No  other 
person  is  allowed  on  the  property,  nor  would  this  noble  think 
of  burying  his  family  elsewhere.  Should  he  not  happen  to  own 
one  such  natural  mausoleum,  or  should  the  manes  of  his  ances- 
tors demand  a change  of  situation,  — for  not  infrequently  they 


174 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


become  dissatisfied  with  tlieir  quarters, — he  looks  about  him 
for  some  mountain,  not  already  the  property  of  another,  and 
seizes  that ; for  whatever  common  people  may  happen  to  be 
squatting  on  it  at  the  time  have  no  rights.  The  practice  lends 
itself  easily  to  various  abuses,  for,  the  mountain  once  become 
his  property,  he  may  put  it  to  any  uses  lie  pleases ; and  he 
often  does.  It  is  a chea})  and  effective  metliod  of  acquiring 
land.  Unfortunatel}",  it  is  limited  in  its  sphere  by  the  con- 
currence of  other  nobles. 

Past  these  mortuary  suburbs  — for  the  dead  may  never 
be  buried  within  the  city  wall  — we  were  borne  at  the  usual 
fast  walk,  and  then  through  villages  composed  of  rude  huts, 
till  at  last  we  reached  the  river  bank  at  a point  where  one  of 
the  knolls,  so  common  a feature  in  this  part  of  Korean  scenery, 
overhung  the  river  Han.  Upon  this  knoll  Avas  perched  the 
villa  Ave  Avere  seeking-.  It  Avas  called  “ The  House  of  the 
Sleeping  Waves.”  They  Avere  certainly  asleep  that  day ; for 
the  river  Avas  fast  bound  in  ice,  and  the  air  Avas  so  cold  that  Ave 
Avere  fain  to  seek  a hasty  refuge  inside  the  screens.  Four 
hraziers,  one  at  each  corner  of  the  room,  and  some  very  strong 
“sul,”  tasting  not  unlike  gin,  someAvhat  revived  us;  and  at  last 
I A’entured  out  again  to  gaze  upon  the  panorama  at  our  feet. 
DirectU'  beloAv  laA^  the  riA’er,  coiled  over  the  land  like  a mam- 
moth  ice  python.  Beyond  it  stretched  the  Aast  plain  of  sand 
Ave  had  crossed  Avith  so  much  tdil  on  our  journey  up  to  Soul ; 
and  in  the  distance  the  mountains,  Avrapped  in  snoAv,  ansAvered 
us,  as  it  Avere,  from  across  the  leA’el  breadth.  Scattered  over 
the  ice  Avere  quantities  of  moving  figures,  that  gave  the  scene 
an  ideal  Dutch  look ; and  canopying  the  Avhole  Avas  a sky 
of  deecA"  Avhite  clouds  sailing  steadiB^  atlnvart  the  blue. 

The  house  itself  had  in  former  times  been  the  home  of  a 
general-in-chief  of  the  army.  Noav  it  belongs  to  the  State, 
and  its  use  is  a perquisite  of  the  governorship  of  the  province. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SLEEPING  WAVES. 


175 


Here  the  Governor  comes  when  he  feels  peculiarly  poetic,  and 
gazing  over  the  river  from  the  terrace  is  inspired  to  song.  The 
present  Governor,  however,  was  more  given  to  keeping  np  the 
old  reputation  than  the  new.  As  he  himself  held  a military 
position,  Ave  were  in  no  lack  of  soldiers  in  consequence  of  the 
change  in  ownership.  The  insignia  of  this  second  dignity  was 
a leathern  girdle  tied  in  front,  and  ending  in  two  leathern  knobs 
for  tassels. 

It  was  too  cold  to  linger  over  the  view,  and  for  once  at 
least  I regretted  that  indoors  and  outdoors  are  in  Korea 
two  different  Avorlds.  Tlie  paper  of  the  window,  in  place 
of  glass,  completely  isolates  the  one  from  the  otlier.  There 
Avas  nothing  for  it,  lioAveA’er,  but  to  return  to  the  braziers  and 
the  sul. 

“Sul  ” is  the  generic  name  for  Avine  in  Korea,  as  “sake”  is 
in  Japan ; and  the  tAvo  names  denote  the  same  substance.  It 
is  a drink  made  from  rice,  sometimes  fermented,  sometimes  dis~ 
tilled,  so  that  it  resembles,  according  to  its  kind,  either  beer  or 
AA’hiskey.  In  taste  it  hiintly  suggests  sherry,  but  Avith  a pecu- 
liar aroma  of  its  own.  It  equally  faintly  suggests  gin.  Perhaps 
no  further  commentary  is  needed  to  explain  the  impossibility  of 
likening  it  to  anything*.  Usually  it  is  quite  mild;  AAdiat  Avas  uoaa' 
served  to  us,  on  account  of  the  cold,  being  exceptionally  strong. 
In  one  respect  it  differs  from  the  Japanese.  It  is  commonlv 
opaque,  muddy,  AAdiereas  sake  is  clear.  There  are  said  to  be 
clear  kinds  in  Korea,  too ; but  being  more  expensiA'e,  they  are 
not  in  ordinary  use.  In  olden  times  it  was  opaque  in  Japan, 
and  the  history  of  the  change  is  handed  down  in  the  folloAving 
anecdote. 

Once  upon  a time,  in  the  midst  of  a feast,  a boy  Avas  sent 
out  to  the  kitchen  to  heat  some  more  sake  ; for  sake  to  be 
delicious  must,  to  natiA’e  taste,  be  hot,  and  relaj^s  of  it  are 
therefore  constantly  being  heated  and  brought  in  as  the  feast 


17G 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


progresses.  It  is  warmed  in  tall  tliin-necked  earthen  jars  over 
a charcoal  fire  until  it  reaches  the  proper  temperature,  and  is 
then  decanted  into  porcelain  bottles  and  served.  While  en- 
gaged in  his  task,  the  boy  carelessly  let  fall  into  the  wine  a 
])iece  of  charcoal  from  among  the  embers  of  the  fire.  This 
was  most  calamitous ; and  for  a moment  the  boy  stood  aghast, 
awe-struck  by  its  descending  gurgle.  Pie  could  not  see  the 
liquid  for  the  smallness  of  the  opening,  and  his  fears  had  all 
the  greater  scope.  The  more  he  considered,  however,  the  more 
his  courage  returned.  After  all,  it  was  a big  piece  of  charcoal ; 
and  though  it  was  a horribly  dirty  substance,  to  be  sure,  still, 
perhaps,  by  taking  great  care  he  might  be  able  to  decant  it  so 
carefully  that  all  the  charcoal  would  be  left  behind  in  the  jar, 
from  which  he  could  take  it  out  at  his  leisure.  He  already 
felt  better.  To  his  horror,  then,  Avhen  he  came  to  pour  it,  there 
flowed  out  not  dirty  sake,  indeed,  but  'what  was  worse,  a 
perfectly  clear  and  transparent  liquid,  that  looked  so  utterly 
unlike  sake  that  everybody  would  be  sure  to  see  the  mishap 
at  a glance.  He  carried  it  in,  his  knees  shaking  under  him, 
and  watched  with  fearful  anxiety  as  he  served  it  to  the  first 
guest.  There  it  was,  sure  enough,  the  tell-tale  liquid,  like 
Avater  for  clearness.  In  dismay,  he  confessed  Avhat  he  had 
done,  and  Avas  on  the  point  of  receiving  condign  punishment 
AA^hen  somebody  had  the  curiosity  to  taste  the  AAune,  and  dis- 
coA’ered  that  it  had  not  been  injured  in  the  least,  but  rather 
improved  in  delicacy  of  flavor.  The  guilty  inventor  found 
himself,  to  his  great  surprise,  praised  instead  of  punished ; 
and  eA’er  aftei’Avards  it  became  the  j)ractice  to  drop  on  pur- 
pose a bit  of  charcoal  accidentally  into  the  sake,  until  at  last 
they  took  to  filtering  it  altogether. 

While  I sat  sipping  my  sul,  my  thoughts  meditatively 
engaged  in  folloAA’ing  the  pleasurable  course  of  the  AAune  doAAm- 
Avards,  all  of  a sudden  a band  struck  up  in  the  next  room,  on 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SLEEPIXG  WAVES. 


177 


the  other  side  of  a thin  partition  which  completely  hid  it  from 
view.  The  effect  was  startling  in  the  extreme ; I felt  as  if  I 
had  been  struck,  instead  of  the  instruments.  The  band  must 
have  stolen  in  there  when  nobody  Avas  looking,  and  then  let 
off  at  us  in  this  unexpected  manner.  Just  as  I AA^as  j)reparing 
to  dislike  it  for  its  intrusion,  — as  we  take  aversions  to  certain 
people  from  their  mode  of  address,  — my  ear  Avas  caught  and 
my  indignation  arrested  by  the  peculiarity  of  the  sound.  It 
seemed  like  an  apology  meant  to  deprecate  niA"  nascent  AATath. 
There  is  something  singularly  plainti\’e  in  Korean  music.  I 
think  it  is  due  to  unlimited  quaA'er.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to 
describe  it,  as  it  has  always  been  impossible  for  me  to  remem- 
ber it ; and  I am  still  in  a state  of  doubt  as  to  AA’hether,  on  the 
whole,  it  is  agreeable  or  the  reA^erse.  I forgaA-e  it;  but  one 
forgiveness  apparently  AAaas  not  enough  to  satisfy  its  tender 
conscience.  It  Avent  on  repenting  of  itself,  as  it  sounded,  for 
a good  (piarter  of  an  hour.  'When  at  last  the  band  paused 
exhansted,  tAA'O  military  trumpeters,  Avith  the  same  unexpected 
abruptness,  launched  into  a duet  outside ; and  then  there  AA’as 
silence  by  the  space  of  fifteen  minutes,  Avhen  the  thing  began 
again. 

During  dinner,  in  the  course  of  the  small  talk  Ave  bandied 
about,  a poser  Avas  most  unpleasantl}^  given  me  in  the  shape 
of  a personal  conundrum,  I aa’us  asked  to  guess  the  age  of 
my  host.  Xoaa',  in  Korea  it  is  a great  compliment  to  be 
thought  to  look  old.  This,  fortunately,  I kneAA\  So  far  I 
Avas  safe.  But  unfortunatelv  for  truth’s  sake,  iua"  host  looked 
singularly  young  for  his  age  ; for  his  age  I also  happened  to 
knoAV.  His  AA’as  a most  lamentable  exception  to  a general 
rule ; for  a Korean  almost  inA’ariably  looks  older  than  he  is, 
so  that  Avith  them  truth  is  flattery,  and  Avhat  is  meant  for 
flattery  turns  out  to  be  truth.  But  Avhat  was  I to  do  noAv? 
Should  I sacrifice  A^eracity  to  a desire  to  j^lease,  or  a desire  to 

12 


178 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


please  to  a stern  sense  of  veracity  ? I took  a middle  course, 
and  g-nessed  his  age  to  be  Avliat  I kneAv  it  was.  In  the  ex- 
planation that  folloAved  the  laugh,  so  much  talk  Avas  raised 
as  to  coA'er  any  retreat  I fancied. 

We  Avent  out  on  to  the  j^iazza,  and  then  I thought  I should 
like  to  try  the  ice.  So  AA^e  descended  to  the  river.  The  stream 
was  solidly  frozen  over,  and  AA’e  got  upon  it  Avithout  the  least 
difficulty.  The  ice  AA’as  covered  Avith  bands  of  fishermen,  most 
of  them  in  motion,  each  man  armed  Avith  an  im})lement  for 
cutting  holes,  and  each  dragging  a sled.  This  the}"  sat  doAvn 
upon  AA’hile  they  AA^aited  for  bites.  The  contriA^ance  Avas  also  de- 
signed undoubtedly  to  carry  home  the  fish  they  might  catch. 
While  I Avatched  them,  they  caught  nothing.  But  this  Avas  ill 
luck,  for  from  these  fisheries  are  supplied  the  large  quantities  of 
fish  AAdiich  are  daily  eaten  in  the  capital.  From  the  numbers 
engaged  in  the  pursuit,  I should  judge  that  it  Avas  the  principal 
occupation  of  the  villages  AAdiich  croAA’d  the  banks  of  this  }>art  of 
the  Ilan  River.  Where  we  Avere  AA'as  about  inidAvay  betAveen 
the  tAVO  ferries  fartliest  doAvn  stream,  something  short  of  a mile 
from  the  place  Avhere  AA-e  had  crossed  it  on  the  journey  up,  and 
in  the  verv  centre  of  the  river  suburbs.  Both  Avater-fishing 
and  afrriculture  are  at  a standstill  at  this  season  of  the  A’ear; 

O 

for  during  tAA’o  months  the  river  is  solidly  frozen  over,  and  the 
ground  does  not  open  for  the  first  digging  over  for  the  rice 
crop  till  the  middle  of  March.  During  this  enforced  rest  the 
inhabitants  spend  their  time  in  transporting  bruslnvood  into 
the  city,  and  in  these  fisheries. 

The  fishermen  Avere  fishing  for  Avhat  is  knoAvn  in  Japan  as 
“ koi.”  Underneath  the  ice  is  stretched  a net.  Then  at  intervals 
upon  its  surface  are  dug  holes  tlirough  the  crust,  and  doAim  these 
are  let  strings  AAith  bare  hooks  fastened  to  their  ends,  dhe 
fishers  then  start  some  distance  behind  the  spot  AAdiere  the  net 
is  huno-,  AA'ith  the  series  of  holes  betAA'een  them  and  it,  and  begin 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SLEEPIXG  WAVES. 


179 


to  make  as  terrific  a noise  upon  tlie  surface  of  tlie  ice  as  tliey 
are  capable  of  producing,  gradually,  as  tliey  do  so,  approacliiug 
the  net.  The  terrified  fish  make  off  as  fast  as  they  can,  but  are 
unable  to  escape  because  of  the  net,  and  in  their  bewildered 
condition  are  caug'ht  upon  the  hooks  as  they  rush  heedlessly 
past.  The  liooks  are  formed  of  three  barbs  at  right  angles  to 
one  another.  It  is  only  in  winter  that  these  bare  hooks  are 
used ; in  summer  tlie  fishing’  is  carried  on  witli  hooks  that  are 
baited.  Enticement  succeeds  to  repulsion ; and  in  this  pur- 
suit, as  in  others,  it  is  no  doubt  the  more  efficacious  method 
of  the  two. 

With  the  exception  of  the  fishermen,  the  Koreans  were  not 
at  home  upon  the  ice.  They  went  on  it  under  protest,  as  it 
were,  and  showed  much  anxiety  lest  my  rashness  sliould  end 
in  mv  falling  through.  The  officials  especially  cut  a ludicrous 
figure  as  they  ventured  upon  the  slippery  surface,  propped  on 
either  side  by  a body-servant,  after  the  fashion  of  a pair  of 
human  crutches.  Tliere  was  a certain  need  of  these  stays 
here,  but  the  custom  knows  no  sucli  actual  exigencies.  It 
is  a mere  question  of  dignity.  It  is  etiquette  for  all  officials, 
whenever  they  condescend  to  walk  at  all,  to  be  iqffield  under 
the  arms  by  a couple  of  men.  Official  presence  consequent 
upon  this  action  oversteps,  it  seems  to  me,  that  bound  which  is 
said  to  separate  the  sublime  from  the  ridiculous,  especially 
when  the  motion  quickens,  as  it  not  infrequently  does,  into  a 
run.  To  witness  some  poor  official  hastening,  or  rather  has- 
tened, in  this  manner  to  a rendezvous,  gives  one  but  a humorous 
idea  of  the  lofty  gravity  of  station. 

The  river  is  here  so  subject  to  the  tide  as  materially  to 
affect  the  freshness  of  the  water,  and  therefore  to  lower  the 
freezing-point,  so  tliat  the  extent  and  duration  of  the  ice  means 
more  than  at  first  ap^iears  in  the  way  of  cold.  In  view  of  such 
opportunities  it  is  not  a little  surprising  that  skates  should  never 


180 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOPtNIXG  CxVLM. 


have  been  invented ; the  more  so,  as  the  overflowed  rice-fields 
would  furnish  the  best  possible  of  places  for  the  pastime.  Yet 
I neither  saw  nor  heard  of  any.  Even  sliding  upon  the  ice, 
which  I was  obliged  to  substitute  in  lieu  of  the  more  noble 
invention,  Avas  set  down  in  their  minds  as  a foolish  foreign 
eccentricity.  Indeed,  the  zeal  with  Avhich  not  only  friends  and 
attendants,  but  even  disinterested  bystanders  and  lookers-on, 
endeavored  to  Avarn  me  off  the  ice,  Avould  liaA'e  done  credit 
to  the  hen  Avith  her  obstinate  duckling. 

Pushing  always  forward,  I found  the  ice  perfectly  firm  eA’ery- 
AA’here,  and  reached  AA’ithout  difficulty  the  cJievaux  de  frisc  along 
the  opposite  shore.  Tliis  I scrambled  over,  and  climbed  up  the 
bank.  Once  on  the  bank,  there  Avas  nothing  to  do  but  to  re- 
turn ; for  the  bluff  on  AA’hich  the  house  stood  Avas,  like  most 
Korean  suburbs,  much  better  to  look  from  than  to  look  at. 
The  mass  Avas  good  enough;  but  at  this  distance  the  surface 
had  an  excoriated  appearance,  due  to  indiscriminate  trampling. 

"We  mounted  again  to  the  House  of  the  Sleeping  WaA^es  to 
sip  that  latest  noiiveaute  in  Korea,  after-dinner  coffee.  As  Ave 
sat  on  the  A'eranda,  there  stole  up  to  us  the  ring  from  the  ice 
as  the  fishers  tramped  over  it,  — that  holloAV  booming  sound, 
Avhich  abvays  seems  so  to  typify  ^^nd  enhance  the  deadness  of 
a Avinter  landscape.  And  then,  as  it  AAms  a simple  dinner,  one 
Avithout  the  addition  of  geisha  or  other  inducement  to  linger, 
Ave  prepared  to  set  out  on  the  journey  back  to  toAvn,  amid  a 
flourish  of  trumpets  and  much  handling  of  muskets  on  the  part 
of  the  Governor’s  retinue. 


THE  WANT  OF  A EELIGION. 


181 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  WANT  OF  A RELIGION. 

IF  YOU  Avere  to  stand  upon  the  wall  of  the  city  of  Soul,  and 
let  your  glance  Avander  OA’er  the  roofs  that,  not  unlike  the 
AA’aves  of  a sea,  lay  stretched  out  before  you,  you  could  hardly 
foil  to  be  struck  by  a A’ery  conspicuous  absence,  — the  absence 
of  anytliing  in  the  shape  of  a building  aa  IucIi  rose  aboA’e  its  fel- 
loAAs.  The  AAude  sameness  of  construction  aa'ouUI  affect  your 
senses,  and  influence  the  general  impression  made  upon  you  by 
the  vieAA^  at  your  feet,  AAuthout  at  first  your  being  quite  conscious 
of  the  cause.  Some  feature,  common  to  panoramas  of  the  kind, 
is  here  AA'anting.  As  you  came  to  analyze  the  sensation,  you 
AA'ould  find  that  it  AA'as  the  effect  of  uniformity.  Before  you  lie 
some  square  miles  of  thatch  and  tile,  AA'ith  little  or  nothing 
beyond  the  natural  uneA’enness  of  the  ground  to  diversify  the 
A’ieAA’.  Your  eye  seeks  in  A^ain  those  loftier  structures  aaIucIi 
sei-A-e  to  fix  it,  and  give  it,  as  it  Avere,  points  of  departure  for 
the  rest.  It  is  a vieAA^  lacking-  accentuation.  It  is  a A'ieAv 
AA'hich  suggests,  by  inference,  a singular  equality  among  the 
people,  Avhich  could  shoAA^  itself  in  so  striking  a uniformity  in 
their  dAA'ellings.  One  AA’Ould  think  it  the  expression  of  adA-anced 
democracy,  not  to  say  the  fulfilment  of  an  ultra-extraA'agant 
socialistic  dream.  And  yet  there  could  be  nothing  so  unfounded. 
There  is  probably  no  country  in  the  AA’orld  so  completely  the 
opposite  in  its  institutions  to  such  a snpposition.  Not  only  is 


182 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


its  government  no  rule  by  the  people,  it  is  in  no  sense  fi  rule  for 
the  ])eo})le.  It  is  as  much  in  the  interest  of  a few,  as  the  power 
is  in  the  hands  of  those  few ; and  at  the  top  of  all  sits  a des- 
potic king.  What  is  it,  then,  that  is  wanting!  A religion, 
Xo  spire  leads  the  thought  to  heaven. 

If  we  will  consider  for  a moment,  Ave  shall  realize  that  it  is 
to  religion  that  cities  have  been  indebted  for  the  greater  part  of 
their  architectural  monuments.  Whether  the  religion  be  Chris- 
tianity,  Islam,  Buddhism,  or  something  else,  has  not  mattered 
to  the  result.  The  fact  is  just  as  true  in  Kioto  or  Delhi  as  in 
Koine  or  London.  All  religions  have  been  powers  which,  in 
the  matter  of  building,  have  universally  surpassed  even  that  of 
the  rulers  of  the  land  themselves.  The  vast  extension  and  the 
zeal  of  the  organization  has  been  such  as  to  call  into  play  the 
resources  of  every  one  of  its  legions  of  followers;  and  its  Avants, 
architecturally,  have  been  on  a scale  Avith  its  resources.  Xo 
Avonder  that  in  all  times  and  among  all  peoples  it  has  usurped 
the  lion’s  share  of  the  talents  of  architects.  Take  aAvay  tliis 
patron,  therefore,  and  at  one  blow  you  deprive  a place  of  the 
greater  part  of  its  imposing  structures.  This  is  Avhat  has  hap- 
pened in  Korea.  There  is  not  a single  religious  building  in  the 
Avhole  of  Soul,  nor  is  any  priest  ever  allowed  to  set  foot  Avithin 
the  city’s  gates;  and  Avliat  is  true  of  Soul  is  true  of  eA*eiy  Availed 
city  of  the  land. 

The  fact  is  as  unique  as  it  is,  especially  in  its  consequences, 
of  singular  interest.  China,  on  the  one  hand,  and  Japan,  on  the 
other,  offer,  in  their  general  characteristics  in  this  respect,  no 
difference  to  Euro])ean  customs.  In  both  lands  religious  build- 
ings dot  the  cities  in  the  same  diA-ersifying  manner  as  Avith  us. 
Detailed  differences  in  appearance  there  certainly  are,  but  these 
are  due  far  more  to  a difference  in  aixdiitecture  than  to  any 
change  in  the  motiA'e  cause.  Xeither  people  being  architect- 
urally great,  there  is  A’ery  little  of  the  grand  in  their  productions ; 


THE  WANT  OF  A EELIGIOX. 


183 


and  in  Japan  especiall}’,  owing  to  a comparative  absence  of 
pagodas,  religious  buildings  do  not  stand  out  to  the  eye  as  do 
our  spires  or  cathedrals.  But  they  are  there,  for  all  that ; and  a 
little  knowledge  and  attention  will  reveal  them,  even  in  a pano- 
ramic and  distant  view,  as  clearly  as  elsewhere.  Korea  stands 
in  this  respect  in  isolated  suggestiveness. 

For  such  an  utter  dearth  suggests  something  beyond  what 
meets  the  eye.  It  not  only  attests  a present,  but  it  hints  at  a 
past.  It  suggests  the  sudden  banishing  ot  a religion  which  once 
held  swav  ; for  had  no  religion  worthy  the  name  supplanted 
the  aboriginal  superstitions  which  form  the  emotional  thought- 
product  of  all  peoples  in  their  primitive  state,  this  superstition 
itself  Avould  have  left  its  own  monuments  behind  it.  Now,  in 
the  case  of  Korea,  remains  of  this  description  are  not  numerous 
enough  to  satisfy  the  principle.  There  are,  it  is  true,  certain 
shrines,  sacred  trees,  and  memorial  buildings  to  be  found 
throimhout  the  land : but  thev  are  neither  common  enough 
nor  sufficiently  imposing  to  have  ever  marked  the  full  de- 
velopment of  a live  and  all-absorbing  superstition.  Especially 
are  they  few  in  just  the  places  where  we  are  seeking  them 
now, — namely,  in  the  cities.  We  are  therefore  led  to  sup- 
pose the  existence,  at  some  past  time,  of  a social  cataclysm,  — 
a cataclysm  which  at  once  and  completely  overthrew  an  exist- 
ing faith.  Such  a cataclysm  did  actually  take  place  in  Korea, 
and  the  land  to  this  day  has  never  recovered  from  its  effects. 

As  to  the  wav  in  which  it  came  about,  the  followinof  is  a 
Korean  explanation  : It  was  at  the  time  of  the  great  Japanese 
invasion  of  three  hundred  years  ago.  Up  to  that  time,  Korea 
was  like  its  neighbors,  who  have  ever  been  rather  tolerant  than 
otherwise  of  religious  beliefs.  Thev  have  usuallv  harbored  two 
or  three  at  a time,  which  have  managed  to  live  at  peace  in  the 
placid  bosom  of  the  race.  The  invasion  took  place  just  as  the 
sixteenth  century  of  our  era  was  lapsing  into  the  seventeenth. 


184 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


In  1598  Kato  and  Konichi  set  sail  from  Japan  — inncli  as 
William  the  Conqueror  did  from  Normandy,  with  only  the 
reciprocal  change  of  continent  for  island  in  the  two  cases  — to 
subjugate  their  neighbor  kingdom  across  the  sea;  and  after  a 
])assnge  of  much  the  same  length,  they  landed  at  Pusan,  as  he 
did  at  Pevensey.  There  is  certainly  something  grander  in  a 
flotilla  bound  for  conquest  than  in  any  army.  We  are  moved 
b}"  the  daring  that  braves  both  Nature  and  man.  So  was  Na- 
ture touched  herself,  and  she  let  them  across  in  safety.  Then 
began  the  march  up  from  the  sea ; for,  unlike  England,  there 
was  no  gallant  Harold  to  oppose  them,  — none  who,  after  woi’st- 
ing  one  enemy,  had  marched  (as  is  even  to-day  a marvel  in 
tactics)  from  sea  to  sea  to  front  the  other  foe.  Korea  was  para- 
lyzed by  the  boldness  of  the  deed.  She  seems  hardly  to  have 
realized  the  situation.  Her  seclusion  has  always  colored  to 
her  mind  the  actions  of  the  outside  world  with  something  of 
the  impossibility  of  fulfilment  of  a dream.  And  the  Japan- 
ese column  moved  on  with  the  irresistible  force  of  a natural 
catastrophe. 

The  invaders  were  plucky  then,  as  they  are  plucky  now. 
For  all  that,  they  did  not  des})ise  stratagem,  so  Korean  tra- 
dition informs  us ; for  the  two  rival  generals  were  racing  by 
different  roads  to  the  capital,  and  time,  for  once  in  the  history 
of  the  East,  became  of  account.  Neither  could  afford  to  stop 
and  lay  siege,  lest  his  rival  should  get  ahead  of  him.  To  gain 
access,  therefore,  to  those  citadels  which  they  could  not  take  by 
assault,  the  Japanese  adopted  a disguise  ready  at  hand.  Some 
of  them  donned  the  broad-brimmed  hats  of  the  Buddhist  priests, 
that  sweep  down  on  the  sides  so  as  to  conceal  completely  the 
face  of  the  wearer.  They  give  men  the  appearance  of  mush- 
rooms walking.  Thus  insured  against  detection,  the  invad- 
ers gained  admittance  to  the  outstanding  castles  and  put  the 
garrisons  to  the  sword. 


THE  WAXT  OF  A EELIGIOX. 


185 


The  inoffensive  priests  suffered  for  the  dej:)redations  of  the 
wolves  in  sheep’s  clothing.  \Ylien  the  Japanese  withdrew, 
which  did  not  happen,  permanently,  till  thirty  years  after- 
ward, the  Korean  Government  decreed  that  for  future  safety 
no  priest  should  ever,  on  any  pretence  Avhatsoever,  set  foot 
within  the  gates  of  a walled  city.  The  expulsion  of  the 
priests  was  naturally  followed  by  the  gradual  disappearance 
of  the  buildings.  The  body  of  religion  — its  structures  — 
crumbled  again  to  dust,  and  the  spirit  winged  its  flight  from 
persecuting  man  to  rest  among  the  mountains.  So  religion 
in  Korea  died. 

Such  is  one  explanation.  But  there  is  grave  reason  to  doubt 
it.  It  savors  far  too  much  of  a desire  to  father  upon  the  hated 
victorious  Japanese  the  destruction  of  everything  that  Korea 
lias  lost.  The  account  given  in  the  native  histories  is  more 
prosaic,  but  more  trustworthy.  The  otlier  is  interesting  as 
showing  up  one  side  of  the  Korean  character,  — an  utter 
untrustwortlnness  in  matters  between  themselves  and  others. 
It  comes  out  even  more  markedly  in  their  accounts  of  battles 
which  they  are  forever  winning,  and  yet  somehow  after  which 
they  invariably  retreat. 

According  to  the  historical  version,  some  centuries  ago,  there 
were  two  parties  in  the  State,  — one  wedded  to  Confucianism, 
the  other  equally  attached  to  Buddhism.  The  Buddhists  had 
grown  exceedingly  corrupt.  A struggle  took  place  between 
the  two  parties  ; the  Buddhist  supporters  were  worsted,  and 
their  expulsion  was  decreed  and  carried  out. 

Buddhism  was  banished ; thenceforward  it  lived  only  in 
the  depths  of  the  country.  Still,  it  was,  properly  speaking, 
not  so  much  banished  as  in  part  destroyed  ; its  existence  in 
cities  came  to  an  end.  But  the  life  of  Buddhism  has  always 
consisted  of  two  parts ; the  Church  has  ever  sought  com- 
munion with  Nature  as  much  as  converse  with  men.  The 


186 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


monasteries  scattered  tlirono-hout  tlie  country  are  as  integral 
and  important  a portion  of  it  as  are  the  temples  to  ■which 
throng  the  crowds  of  the  great  cities.  In  consequence  of  the 
decree,  the  temples  in  Korea  ceased  to  exist,  but  the  monas- 
teries continued  as  before.  The  law  did  not  directly  affect 
them  ; but  indirectly  they  suffered  from  its  effects.  Banish- 
ment from  the  cities  produced  two  results.  First,  desuetude 
rendered  the  mass  of  the  people  quite  oblivious  to  religious 
matters  ; and  secondly,  the  withdrawal  of  religion  from  the 
seats  of  power  threw  the  profession  into  disfavor  Avith  the 
aristocracy.  Members  of  the  highest  families  Avould  not  en- 
ter it,  and  its  ranks  Avere  consequently  recruited  from  a less 
educated  class.  This  tended  to  lower  it  still  further.  En- 
doAvments  became  less  in  number,  and  smaller  in  amount ; 
and  religion,  e\'en  the  monastic  half,  instead  of  being  as  in 
Ja})an  a live  and  poAverful  institution,  dAvindled  till  it  became 
only  the  hermit  remains  of  its  former  self.  The  nearer  to  the 
cities  the  Avorse  the  curse  ; so  that  noAv  it  is  only  afar  in  the 
mountains  that  anything  approaching  its  old-time  gloiy  still 
lingers.  What  its  features  are,  I shall  have  occasion  to  men- 
tion later  Avhen  I come  to  describe  an  expedition  I took  to  a 
certain  monastery  to  the  north  of  Soul. 

Here,  then,  Ave  haA'e  a community  Avithout  a religion,  — for 
the  cities  are  to  a peculiar  degree  the  life  of  the  land,  — a 

community  in  Avhich  tlie  morality  of  Confucius  for  the  upper 

# 

classes,  and  the  remains  of  old  superstitions  for  the  lower, 
take  its  place. 

The  materials  of  Avhich  the  monuments  Avere  constructed 
have  still  further  effected  their  eradication.  Throughout  the 
fiir-East  Avood  is  the  common  article  employed  in  the  build- 
ing of  temples.  Though  occasionally  stone  or  some  other 
more  durable  substance  is  used,  temples  or  pagodas  so  con- 
structed, in  whole  or  in  part,  are  rare. 


THE  WAXT  OF  A EELIGIOH. 


187 


It  is  to  one  of  these  rare  exceptional  occasions  — in  this 
instance  to  the  stone  of  whidi  it  is  made  — that  is  due  the 
preservation  of  the  only  pagoda  still  extant  in  Soul.  This 
structure  is  not  a true  2)agoda.  It  is  a pagoda  only  in  form  ; 
and  now  it  is  but  a neglected  ornament  in  a certain  man’s 
back-yard.  But  it  deserves  to  be  mentioned  for  its  beauty  as 
well  as  for  its  lonely  survivorship.  It  hardly  rises  above  its 
present  lowly  position,  for  it  is  not  above  twenty-five  feet 
high.  So  little  does  it  overtop  the  roofs  of  even  the  low 
Korean  houses  that  surround  it,  that  it  baffles  by  a singular 
delusiveness  one  who  attempts  to  reach  it.  It  lies  almost  in 
the  heart  of  the  city,  not  far  from  one  of  the  main  thorough- 
fares ; and  it  is  while  walking  down  this  thoroughfare  that  one 
catches  a distant  glimpse  of  it.  The  distant  glimpse  never 
becomes  a nearer  view.  From  afar  it  is  a conspicuous  ob- 
ject, and  on  a closer  approach  it  vanishes.  It  reappears  only 
when  it  has  once  more  been  left  a long  distance  behind ; 
while  from  any  other  point  of  view  than  this  street  it  is 
hardly  visible  at  all.  Picpied  into  curiosity,  I determined  to 
ferret  it  out  and  see  Avhat  it  was,  even  at  the  risk  of  dispel- 
ling the  charm. 

The  approach,  as  I expected  it  would  do,  led  me  up  several 
narrow  cross  streets,  and  eventually  landed  me  before  an  ill- 
kept  little  garden,  in  the  midst  of  which  rose  the  deserted 
solitary  pagoda.  As  I could  get  no  good  view  of.  it,  such  as 
I wanted,  from  the  alley-way  where  I stood,  I was  obliged  to 
ask  permission  to  break  one  of  the  most  sacred  of  Korean 
rites, — no  less  heinous  an  offence  than  the  climbing  to  a 
neighboring  ridgepole.  The  act  was  not  reprehensible  on  the 
score  of  trespass,  — my  asking  permission  precluded  that,  — 
but  the  climbing  to  any,  even  one’s  own,  roof  is  in  Korean 
eyes  a grave  affair,  for  it  is  a question  of  statute.  It  is  forbid- 
den by  law  to  go  upon  one’s  own  housetop  without  giving 


188 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  ^MOEXIXG  CALM. 


one’s  neiglibors  fornuil  notification  of  one’s  intention  to  'do  so. 
The  object  of  the  law  is  to  prevent  any  woman’s  being  acci- 
dentally seen  by  one  of  the  other  sex.  The  women’s  suite  of 
houses  are  in  the  rear  of  the  compound,  and  their  occupants 
might  easily  be  overlooked  when  in  the  enjoyment  of  their 
gardens  from  such  a vantage-ground. 

Tlie  owner  of  the  building  I was  at  present  desirous  of 
scaling  courteousl}"  granted  me  permission  to  mount  upon  his 
roof,  and  himself  afforded  me  the  best  means  he  conld  to  do 
so.  By  the  help  of  some  nondescript  wooden  constructions  and 
the  zealous  rather  than  dexterous  assistance  of  the  family  and 
its  friends,  we  all  managed  to  get  up,  including  the  camera. 
The  good  Kim,  an  invaluable  attendant,  performed,  for  a Ko- 
rean, prodigies  of  skill ; but  habit  was  so  potent  that  all  the 
other  Koreans,  including  tlie  owner  of  the  house,  remained 
below.  Tliey  found  the  sight,  however,  a most  interesting  spec- 
tacle, and  collected  in  the  alley-way  till  from  above  the  line 
of  spectators  looked  like  a ribbon  of  u|:)tnrned  faces.  I have 
reason  to  believe  that  the  proprietor  neglected  to  notif}’  his 
neighbors  of  my  intention,  as  I caught  a woman  in  an  adjoin- 
ing back-yard  in  the  act  of  lianging  out  some  AA'ashing.  Unfor- 
tunately, she  did  not  tarry  long  enough  for  me  to  pliotograph 
her,  but  dodged  under  shelter  again  Avith  virtuous  rapidity. 

The  })agoda  was  well  worthy  the  toil  involved  in  the  getting 
a vieAv  of  it.  Although  it  Avas  eight  stories  in  height,  it  Avas 
composed,  the  Avhole  of  it,  of  tAvo  pieces  of  stone.  Not,  prop- 
erly speaking,  a real  pagoda,  it  Avas  an  ornamental  structure 
in  the  form  of  one.  Tlie  stories  Avere  carved  to  represent  an 
actual  building,  Avhile  Avhat  should  have  been  their  sides  Avas 
exquisitely  chiselled  in  bas-reliefs  of  celebrated  personages. 
The  Avhite  granite  had  become  slightly  discolored  Avith  age, 
but  enough  of  its  former  purity  remained  to  bring  it  into 
effectiA’e  contrast  Avith  the  sombre  g-rav  of  the  houses.  The 

o t/ 


THE  WANT  OF  A EELIGIOX. 


189 


garden  in  it  stood  was  a shabby,  sad-looking  little  hole, 

not  above  twenty  feet  square  ; and  the  whole  j)lace,  pagoda 
and  all,  looked  — as  in  trntli  it  was  — utterly  forgotten. 

As  soon  as  we  descended,  the  good  man  asked  us  in  to  a 
little  afternoon  tea,  and  added  to  liis  native  hospitality  much 
interest  in  the  proceedings. 

The  idea  of  the  pagoda  is  Indian  ; and  the  Chinese,  when 
they  adopted,  together  with  the  Buddhist  religion,  this  which 
had  come  to  be  one  of  its  expressions,  took  the  idea  without 
directly  copying  the  form.  When  the  Koreans,  in  their  turn, 
came  to  borrow,  they  took  both  idea  and  form  from  the 
Chinese,  tlieir  predecessors  in  the  line  of  possession. 

What  I mean  by  the  idea,  as  distinguished  from  the  form, 
Avill  appear  by  looking  at  the  structure  itself.  The  most 
cursory  examination  will  show  the  pagoda  to  be  unlike  other 
tall  and  slender  structures  in  one  peculiar  and  fundamental  re- 
spect. It  is  not  a unit,  but  a conglomerate.  Instead  of  being 
a perfect  whole,  it  suggests  a series  of  buildings  of  the  ordinary 
Cliinese  type,  placed  one  above  another  skywards.  The  sug- 
gestion is  no  accident,  but  the  result  of  design.  Each  of  these 
stories,  whose  number  varies  in  different  specimens,  typifies  a 
Buddhist  heaven.  They  represent  the  successive  stages  tlirough 
which  the  soul,  in  its  advance  toward  ])urification,  must  inevi- 
tably pass.  This  is  the  idea  embodied  in  the  pagoda.  This 
much,  then,  the  Chinese  adopted  ; but  in  the  expression  of  the 
stories  they  followed  their  own  models,  just  as  they  did  in 
tlie  temples  which  they  erected  in  honor  of  the  same  religion. 
This  intent  — that  of  repetition  — counts  undoubtedly  for 
something,  in  the  quaintness  with  which  the  pagodas  impress 
the  Western  eye. 

Closely  connected  in  the  far-East  with  the  subject  of  re- 
ligion is  the  matter  of  fixed  and  stated  amusements.  The 
church  is  the  first  link  in  a chain  of  development  of  which  the 


190 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM, 


stage  is  tlie  last.  The  beginnings  of  theatrical  representations 
consisted  of  certain  religious  performances  at  the  Buddhist  tem- 
ples. Strictly  religious  at  first,  these  were  simply  processional 
chantings,  which  were,  in  fact,  services  of  the  Buddhistic  ritual. 
From  this  sacred  origin  they  became  gradually  secularized  and 
separated,  until  they  appear  as  solemn  chanted  renderings  of 
historical  events.  It  was  very  slow  music  to  very  slow  move- 
ment, and  there  was  no  stage  setting.  This  period  is  still  kept 
alive  in  the  No  dances  of  Japan.  To  call  them  serious  would 
be  to  make  of  the  ordinarily  serious  the  frivolous,  by  contrast. 
Statues  endowed  with  a})propriately  stiff  motion,  and  with  voice 
to  endure  but  not  to  change,  form  a more  fitting  parallel. 
Splendid  automata  they  appear,  with  clothes  a very  marvel  of 
ijtarch  for  rigidity  of  shape.  And  yet,  once  toned  down  to 
the  occasion,  the  spectator  cannot  but  be  impressed  with  a 
dignity  which  is  itself  artistic. 

Then  the  comedies  were  written,  and  tlie  separation  from 
the  parent  stock  was  complete.  From  this  point  the  stage  ad- 
vanced, as  it  has  done  everywhere,  from  the  remote  and  unnat- 
ural to  the  every-day  and  near  at  hand,  — as  Ave  may  say,  from 
the  abstract  to  the  concrete.  In  Japan  the  result  has  been 
one  of  the  finest  stages  the  Avorld  has  produced.  In  fact,  it  is 
not  going  too  far  to  rank  the  Shintomiza,  the  great  theatre  of 
Tokio,  as  but  little  inferior  to  the  Theatre  Frangais,  Avith  Avhich, 
of  all  theatres,  it  is  most  Avorthy  to  be  compared. 

In  vieAv  of  this  ancestral  connection,  therefore,  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  consequent  upon  the  abolition  of  religion  in  the  past 
should  folloAv  at  present  an  absence  of  the  stage.  Tlie  theatre 
proper  does  not  exist  in  Korea.  Whatever  histrionic  talent  lay 
innate  in  the  people,  neA-er  got  the  encouragement  of  a place 
from  Avhich  to  make  its  dehut ; and  to  no  profession  are  a local 
habitation  and  a name  more  conducive  to  successful  develop- 
ment. The  setting  of  a piece  is,  in  a tAvofold  manner,  an  aid  to 


THE  WANT  OF  A KELIGION. 


191 


its  effect.  It  encourages  the  performer  to  believe  in  his  own  illu- 
sions, and  thus  he  what  he  would  seem,  while  it  adds  another 
element  of  attraction  to  the  audience.  He  is  criticised,  if  we 
may  so  express  it,  with  only  half  a mind,  while  he  himself  is 
left  with  a whole  one  to  create. 

This  aid  Korea  has  lacked.  Histrionic  art  there  has  never 
risen  above  the  nomadic  stage.  Character  performers,  who 
stroll  the  streets,  and  let  themselves  out  in  unaided  simplicity 
for  entertainments,  are  the  onl}^  representatives  of  the  profes- 
sion ; and  it  speaks  volumes  for  their  inborn  ability  that  they 
produce  the  illusions  they  do.  If  the  art  in  the  peninsula  had 
not  received  the  check  we  have  mentioned,  and  had  not  been 
hindered  from  other  sources,  there  seems  no  reason  why  it 
should  not  have  rivalled  that  of  Japan.  How  much  more 
interesting,  as  well  as  gay,  life  in  Soul  would  become  under 
sudi  circumstances,  will  be  fully  appreciated  only  by  those 
who  have  passed  a Avinter  in  the  Koi’ean  capital. 

These  bands  of  performers  combine  otlier  kindred  callings 
Avith  that  of  actor.  They  are,  first  and  alAA^ays,  musicians. 
Their  instruments  consist  of  the  big  and  the  little  drum,  — the 
latter  shaped  like  an  hourglass  and  struck  Avith  the  palm  of 
the  hand,  — the  tAvo-stringed  fiddle,  and  seA’eral  flutes.  They 
are  the  same  instruments  that  are  used  in  the  Buddhist  tem- 
ples, both  in  Korea  and  Japan ; and  the  character  of  the  music 
is  similar  to  that  of  the  religious  serA’ices.  Secular  music  thus 
differs  in  Korea  from  Avhat  it  has  become  in  Japan.  In  the 
former  it  has  remained  Avhat  it  Avas  in  its  sacred  days ; in  the 
latter  it  has,  in  conrse  of  time,  entirely  changed  from  its  orig- 
inal idea,  both  in  instruments  and  in  stvde.  The  chano-e  lias 
been  markedly  for  the  better,  for  the  Korean  music  sounds 
plaintive.  Contrast  and  some  slight  adaptation  liaA^e  rendered 
the  sober  the  sad.  The  musicians  play  commonly  squatting 
upon  the  floor,  like  the  priests  in  the  temple,  but  Avithout  all 


192 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


tlie  ceremony  wliicli  attaches  to  tlie  la}’ing  clown  of  the  in- 
struments and  resuming  them  at  the  proper  moment,  and 
the  many  other  formulm  Avhich  convert  the  seiwice  into  a 
pageant. 

The  acting  is  confined  principally  to  one  man.  He  is  not 
only  the  star,  but  the  all  in  all,  the  others  being  merely  neces- 
sary accessories.  He  learns  no  Avritten  part,  but  improvises  ac- 
cording to  his  own  versatile  genius ; and  he  does  it  exceedingly 
Avell.  All  the  events  of  Korean  life,  all  the  humorous  traits 
in  city  or  country  character,  find  in  him  a ready  and  clever 
mimic ; and  he  affords  amusement,  not  only  to  his  audience, 
but  to  his  fellow-actors,  Avho  find  it  impossible  at  times  to 
keep  their  countenances. 


THE  DEMOX  WOESHIP. 


103 


CHAPTER  XX. 


THE  DEMON  WORSHIP. 


MOXG  the  Koreans,  the  one  stretching  out  to  something 


beyond  Avhat  they  can  see  and  hear,  the  universal  crav- 
ing for  the  supernatural,  finds  its  expression  in  a belief  wiiich, 
if  lacking  in  anything  lofty,  is  at  least  not  devoid  of  a certain 
picturesqueness.  It  may,  witli  more  tlian  ordinary  reason,  be 
divided  into  a practice,  on  the  one  hand,  and  certain  less  vital 
principles,  on  the  other.  So  far  as  the  practice  is  concerned,  it 
might  be  called  the  belief  in  evil  spirits.  To  call  it  a worship 
of  spirits,  generally,  would  be  unnecessarily  to  extend  the 
cult ; for  in  this  branch  of  the  superstition  one  never  hears 
of  any  good  spirits,  except  in  the  most  distant,  indefinite  way. 
As  these  latter  always  do  wliat  they  should  in  the  working  of 
the  cosmogony,  it  is  quite  needless  to  pay  them  any  attention ; 
indeed,  when  we  come  to  think  of  it,  an  invariably  beneficent 
deity,  in  the  old  pagan  sense,  — not  a creator,  but  a mere  con- 
comitant of  creation,  — is  a somewhat  useless  piece  of  fiction 
to  any  nation.  It  speaks  rather  for  the  existence  of  higher 
and  nobler  feelings,  among  early  races,  than  we  are  prone  to 
credit  them  with,  that  such  feelings,  side  by  side  with  abject 
fear,  should  have  sought  embodiment  in  genii. 

The  evil-spirit  faith  of  Korea  is  one  of  the  many  forms  of 
that  body  of  superstition  which  is  common  in  essentials,  though 
differing  in  details,  to  the  whole  eastern  coast  of  Asia, — from 

13 


194 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOKNIXG  CALM. 


Siam,  on  the  sontli,  to  Kamchatka,  on  the  north.  It  is  man’s 
first  attempt  to  account  for  all  those  ills  which  are  his  birth- 
right. But  it  is  not  so  much  an  explanation  as  an  instinc- 
tive inference.  The  tempest,  the  earthquake,  the  thunder,  and 
the  lightning  are  exhibitions  of  forces  he  cannot  understand. 
They  frighten,  they  kill  him,  without  his  being  in  the  least 
able  to  foretell  their  coming.  But,  worse  than  all  tliese,  is 
insidious  disease.  In  the  morning  he  is  well,  and  life  opens  out 
before  him  one  long  vista  of  happiness ; and  at  eve  he  is  at 
death’s  door,  and  he  cannot  tell  why.  Misfortunes  seem  to 
come  upon  him  designedly,  like  the  acts  of  some  great  dis- 
tinct free-Avill,  so  different  do  they  appear  from  the  ordinary, 
orderly  course  of  Nature.  To  his  mind,  only  beings  in  some 
■sort  like  himself,  though  vastly  more  potent,  could  cause  such 
things ; and  so  he  peoples  the  air  Avitli  them,  and  then  guards 
liimself  against  their  attacks  as  best  he  can  devise. 

Tlie  existence  to-day  in  Korea  of  such  a faith,  as  a still 
living  belief,  is,  in  the  first  place,  interesting  in  itself.  For 
the  Koreans  are  no  savage  tribe;  they  passed  from  the  child- 
hood of  hobg-oblins  and  nightmares  to  the  manhood  of  com- 
mon  sense  as  long  ago  as  Ave  did  ourselves.  Tlie  phantasms 
of  fear  gave  place  to  the  rule  of  reason  there,  as  here.  With 
them,  as  with  us,  religion  supplanted  superstition.  But  among 
them,  as  hardly  with  a parallel  elsewhere,  the  career  of  reli- 
gion was  peculiar;  it  went  as  suddenly  as  it  had  come,  and 
left  them  Avith  nothing  but  the  old  superstitions  to  fall  back 
upon. 

Why  it  Avent,  Ave  liaA^e  seen  in  the  preceding  chapter ; and 
its  loss  produced  its  inevitable  results.  When  a belief  rational 
and  pure  enough  to  be  called  a religion  disappears,  the  stronger 
minds  amono-  the  communitA'  turn  in  self-reliance  to  a belief  in 

O 4/ 

nothing ; the  weaker,  in  despair,  to  a belief  in  anything.  This 
happened  here ; and  the  anything  to  which  they  turned  in  this 


THE  DEMON  WOESHIP. 


195 


case  was  what  had  never  quite  died  out,  the  old  aboriginal 
demon  worship. 

What  that  was  exactly,  is,  in  detail,  peculiar  to  Korea.  It 
consisted  for  the  most  part  in  the  belief  in  a host  of  malevolent 
spirits,  who,  though  invisible,  made  their  presence  no  less 
potently  felt  in  other  Avays.  No  better  method  of  introducing 
these  spirits  to  the  reader  suggests  itself  to  me,  than  the  way 
I myself  made  their  acquaintance.  It  was  certainly  calculated 
to  be  impressive. 

Probably  the  first  thing  to  catch  your  eye,  if  you  stood 
before  one  of  the  royal  buildings,  Avhether  it  were  palace, 
pavilion,  or  pyre,  would  be  a row  of  bronze  figures  squatting 
in  Indian  file  on  the  ridges  beloAv  the  gables.  Your  first  glance 
would  suggest  a pack  of  mischievous  boys  in  the  hazardous  act 
of  sliding  down  the  roof.  A second  look  Avould  show  them 
to  l)e  sitting  regardant ; but  so  precarious  is  their  position,  and 
so  lifelike  their  attitude,  that  you  almost  expect  them  to  move, 
in  spite  of  the  evidence  of  your  senses  to  their  inability  to 
do  so.  To  call  them  simply  grotesque  Avould  be  to  belittle 
them  by  too  faint  praise.  They  are  the  very  incarnation  of 
absurdity,  as  they  are  meant  to  be  the  impersonation  of  the 
hideous.  Tlie  procession  — to  use  Avhat  still  seems,  in  spite  of 
their  fixity,  the  most  appropriate  word  — is  headed  by  an  animal 
that  looks  like  a monkey,  and  is  called  a Sonokong,  seated  on 
his  haunches,  Avith  his  arms  akimbo,  as  if  he  Avere  impertinently 
quizzing  the  passers-by  from  his  safe  vantage-ground.  Behind 
him  squats  a figure  suggestive  of  a pig,  rather  more  stolid  and 
indifferent  than  the  first,  and  also,  if  possible,  uglier.  Behind 
him  is  another  pig ; and  so  the}'  go  tailing  up  the  ridge.  The 
Aveather  has  not  been  over-gentle  Avith  the  brutes,  and  has  done 
its  best  to  increase  their  original  repulsiA’eness.  It  has  thus 
furthered  man’s  Intention,  for  the  beasts  are  spirit  scarecroAvs. 
They  Avere  placed  in  their  guardian  position  iu  order  to 


196 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


frighten  away  the  evil  spirits,  the  spirits  of  misfortune  and 
disease.  AVith  such  repulsiveness  on  the  roof,  disease  and 
niisfortnne  dare  not  enter  the  door. 

Tlie  evil  spirits  are  a sort  of  impersonation  of  ill-luck.  They 
are  forever  wandering  about,  and  seeking  a baneful  intimacy 
with  frail  mortality.  They  people  the  air,  and  until  self- 
domesticated,  show  no  inclination  for  terrestrial  life,  as  did  the 
ancient  dryads,  satyrs,  and  nymphs.  They  would  seem  to  be 

innocuous  in  the  open,  but  in- 
side a house,  in  the  unguarded 
freedom  of  the  domestic  circle, 
they  become  capable  of  any 
amount  of  harm.  One  of  their 
most  common  noxious  pursuits 
is  as  the  bearers  of  disease.  In 
fact,  one  is  tempted  to  style  the 
cult  the  Avorship  of  bacteria,  — 
bacteria  of  tlie  mind,  body,  and 
estate.  In  size,  also,  they  sug- 
gest the  like  ; for  they  are,  for 
spirits,  diminutive.  They  are 
considerably  smaller  tlian  men. 
Indeed,  considering  that  they 
are  not  supposed  to  be  seen,  we 
know  their  size  Avith  surprising 
accuracy  from  certain  represen- 
tations of  lights  they  have  had 
Avith  mankind ; for  man  is  at  times  bold  enough  to  attack 
them,  and  not  Avithout  reason,  apparently,  as  in  such  encoun- 
ters the  imps  invariably  figure  as  getting  the  Avorst  of  it.  But 
then  men  dreAV  the  pictures. 

There  was  one  old  Chinese  general,  in  particular,  avIio  was 
famous  for  his  fights  Avith  the  spirits.  In  fact,  his  posthumous 


THE  DEMON  WOESHIP. 


197 


reputation  rests  principally  upon  liis  unvarying  success  in  tins 
kind  of  warfare.  He  lived  in  a sort  of  middle  distance  of 
liistorical  perspective,  when  war  was  still  undertaken,  according 
to  the  would-he  romance  of  succeeding  ages,  against  the  powers 
of  darkness,  and  men  had  not  yet  been  obliged  to  turn  their 
hands  so  exclusively  to  slaying  one  another  to  earn  a fame  for 
prowess.  lie  has  since  become  a favorite  subject  in  pictorial 
art.  One  of  his  portraits,  which  I happen  to  own,  depicts  him 
on  Ins  return  home  from  a successful  fray.  He  has  collared  his 
demon,  and  is  dragging  him  along  much  as  a policeman  walks 
off  a small  boy  to  the  police  station.  The  poor  little  imp  looks 
innocent  enough  to  suggest  that  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  minion 
of  the  law  has  got  hold  of  the  wrong  boy. 

It  is  certainly  not  in  strength  that  the  imps  excel,  but  ratlier 
in  cunning  and  virulence.  They  are  also,  most  fortunately  for 
their  possible  victims,  surprisingly  timid.  If  they  were  not, 
tlie  human  part  of  the  community  would  assuredly  have  to  mi- 
grate, for  they  are  unpleasantly  plenty.  But  though  wily  in 
character,  they  are  not  sagacious  in  mind ; in  fact,  they  are 
simplicity  itself.  The  very  clumsiest  of  devices  serves  to  terrify 
them.  The  average  bird  must  be  considerably  more  astute 
than  they,  judging  from  the  things  at  which  they  take  affright. 
No  passably  clever  crow  but  learns  in  a day  or  two  that  a 
scarecrow  is  a sham,  but  centuries  of  association  have  failed 
to  impress  the  impish  mind  with  the  vanity  of  the  beasts  upon 
the  roof. 

Their  endeavors  seem  to  be  directed  to  gaining  an  access 
to  the  houses.  Here  again  we  are  tempted  to  class  them  as  a 
tolerably  perfect  germ  theoiy.  The  fresh  air  is  not  favorable 
to  their  proper  working.  They  become  dangerous  only  in  the 
impure  atmosphere  of  a room.  Having  effected  an  entrance  to 
the  house,  they  then  best  attack  the  person.  Perhaps  there  is 
an  affinity  here  in  their  action  to  the  belief  of  possession  by 


198 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


evil  spirits,  current  among-  the  ancient  Hebrews,  though  such 
possession  is  rather  implied  than  expressed.  As  it  is  apparently 
impossible  to  protect  the  person  when  once  the  demons  have 
entered  the  house,  the  ingenuity  of  mankiud  is  directed  to  the 
devising  of  means  to  deter  tliem  from  entering  their  abodes; 
this,  thanks  to  the  timidity  and  gullibility  of  the  assailants,  is 
not  a difficult  matter.  It  would  appear  that  the  most  effica- 
cious means  are  the  fanciful  beasts  ou  the  roof  On  the  prin- 
ciple of  setting  a thief  to  catcli  a thief,  tlie  representations  of 
imaginary  monsters  should  perhaps  be  the  best  protection 
against  imaginary  foes.  Time  has  not  familiarized  them  in 
the  least  witli  the  siglit ; and  the  defence  may  be  considered 
as  complete,  for  tlie  buildings  seemed  to  me  to  be  as  devoid 
of  spirits  as  tliey  were  of  any  other  furnishing.  To  the  people 
generally,  there  is  a slight  drawback  to  its  efficaciousness,  in 
that  they  are  not  permitted  to  emjdoy  it.  Such  guardians  are 
solely  the  perquisite  of  his  Majesty ; common  houses  have  to 
shift  without  them.  The  reason  is,  that  it  is  a crime  to  be 
like  the  king  in  anything;  and  as  his  Mnjesty  takes  the  first 
choice  in  all  inventions  or  discoveries,  the  rest  of  the  Korean 
world  has  to  get  along  as  best  it  may  with  the  second. 

The  beasts  on  the  roof  are  not  the  only  artifices  in  vogue 
fo  keep  out  the  vagrant  goblins.  Fortunately  for  the  welfare 
of  the  community,  others  have  been  found  not  inconducive 
to  the  same  result,  — practices  which,  not  being  to  the  royal 
fancy,  have  become,  by  elimination,  the  property  of  the  peo})le. 
Upon  the  outer  portal  of  the  better  class  of  Korean  houses,  on 
the  streetward  side  of  the  panels  of  the  double  door,  are  posted 
what  look  not  unlike  theatrical  placards.  They  are  colored 
paper  drawings,  and  they  represent  tAvo  ancient  generals,  — the 
one  Korean,  the  other  Chinese.  Though  to  our  eye  they  sug- 
gest a coming  display  of  histrionic  talent,  there  is  nothing 
theatrical  in  the  native  intent.  They  are  not  addressed  to 


THE  DEIMOX  WORSHIP. 


199 


men,  but  to  the  spirits ; and  their  purpose  is  not  to  allure,  but 
to  repel.  One  of  the  two  is  the  general  above  mentioned. 

This  contrivance  is  rather  a privilege  of  the  nobility.  The 
common  people  are  content  to  fasten  upon  tlie  lintel  of  their 
door  a wisp  of  rice-straw  or  a strip  of  cloth.  The  higher 
classes  having  used  up  terror  as  a safeguard,  the  poorer  have 
to  put  up  witli  deception,  to  try  and  catch  the  imp  Ij}-  his 
failings.  The  rice-straw  is  to  pander  to  the  greediness  of  the 
ghoul;  the  shred  of  cloth  to  delude  him  into  the  belief  that 
the  man  himself  is  there.  As  it  once  formed  a part  of  his 
garment,  the  ghoul  is  supposed  to  be  simple  enough  to  believe 
that  it  still  does. 

Both  the  paintings  on  the  gates  and  the  offerings  on  the 
lintels  are  very  common  in  Soul,  and  you  can  hardly  pass 
along  any  street  in  the  capital  without  seeing  several. 

There  is  another  custom  in  connection  with  the  warding  off 
of  the  evil  spirits,  which  is  as  pretty  in  its  expression  as  most 
of  the  otliers  are  grotesque.  It  is  unlike  them,  also,  in  another 
way,  for  it  is  not  a permanent  protection.  It  is  a rite,  per- 
formed on  a particular  occasion,  and  only  once  a vear.  I 
was  witness  of  it,  by  accident,  one  afternoon,  and  I admired 
its  poetry  before  I learnt  its  purpose.  It  was  on  the  Korean 
Xew  Year’s  eve,  a month  later  than  our  own.  In  the  twilioTt 
of  a snowstorm,  I had  started  to  walk  across  the  city;  all  day 
it  had  been  snowing,  but  now  that  the  day  was  dying,  the 
weather,  remorseful,  seemed  trying  to  forget  its  sullen  mood  in 
a parting  smile.  But  repentance  had  come  too  late  ; and  the 
sunset  light  now  only  succeeded  in  tingeing  the  leaden  canopy 
a faint,  lurid  red,  which  the  freshly  fallen  snow  reflected  back. 
It  was  an  unreal  light,  this  afterglow,  as  it  struggled  with  the 
deepening  gloom.  Few  people  were  abroad;  and  even  the 
speech  of  such  groups  as  stood  gossiping  here  and  there  seemed 
hushed  of  itself  to  Avhispers,  as  it  stole  to  my  ear,  muffled  by  the 


200 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


snow.  My  very  footfall  was  lost  in  tlie  thick,  soft  carpet  that 
covered  the  path.  Against  such  a sombre,  silent  background 
there  shone  out,  Avith  all  the  more  vividness,  at  intervals  in  the 
street  before  the  doors  of  the  houses,  tiny  tongues  of  flame. 
They  sprang  from  little  bonfires  in  the  midst  of  the  snow,  Avhich 
men,  as  silent  as  the  time  itself,  stood  tending.  The  men  uttered 
no  sound,  and  their  whole  bearing  was  subdued  by  the  scene 
into  an  unearthly  quiet;  farther  on,  a group  of  children,  gath- 
ered in  a circle  about  the  flame,  sat  mutely  intent  on  its  flicker- 
ings,  while  its  light  clyed  their  gaudy  dresses  yet  ruddier,  and 
touched  the  eager  young  faces  with  its  fancy-begetting  glow. 
Like  the  ruby  flame  at  the  heart  of  a Roman  Catholic  cathedral 
shrine,  it  seemed  the  only  living  thing  in  one  vast  gloom. 

Slight  knowledge  always  tends  to  destroy  the  quaint.  On 
returning  home,  my  first  inquiries  about  what  I had  seen 
elicited  worse  than  a prosaic  explanation.  I had  witnessed, 
so  I was  informed,  the  annual  domestic  hair-burning.  During 
the  year  the  hair  combings  and  cuttings  of  each  household  are 
carefully  kept  and  put  aside,  and  then,  on  a certain  night,  the 
Avhole  collection  is  brought  out  and  burnt,  once  for  all.  Whether 
this  is,  as  some  say,  from  a superstitious  aversion  to  the  burn- 
ing oftener  than  is  absolutely  necessary  of  Avhat  has  been  a part 
of  man,  or  whether,  as  others  suggest,  for  the  more  sinqde 
reason  that  the  odor  of  burning  hair  is  too  disagreeable  to  be 
often  repeated,  — is  uncertain.  At  any  rate,  this  refuse  of  the 
Korean  scanty  toilet  is  punctiliously  preserved  during  the  en- 
tire twelve  months,  and  then  solemnly  consumed  on  that  day, 
Avhen  all  things  begin  anew. 

As  this  did  not  satisfy  my  sense  of  poetic  justice,  I in- 
quired further  of  my  official  visitor,  the  secretary,  a man 
deep  in  native  folk-lore.  Nor  was  I disajopointed.  The  rite 
Avas,  indeed,  too  picturesque  not  to  have  a soul.  This  is 
Avhat  he  told  me. 


THE  DE.AEON  WORSHIP. 


201 


Some  of  earth’s  customs  are  but  tlie  reflection  of  those  In 
heaven.  There  is  a New  \ ear’s  day  there,  as  here.  It  dawns 
the  same  to  both,  for  one  surrounds  tlie  other.’  Upon  it  all  the 
good  spirits  — and  their  punctual  attendance  at  this  annual  re- 
ception is  one  of  the  few  mentions  made  of  the  virtuous  nonen- 
tities— call  upon  the  Lord  x>f  heaven,  as  men  call  upon  the 
king  on  earth.  Vvdiile  they  are  so  engaged,  the  evil  spirits, — 
the  spirits  of  disease  and  misfortune,  — not  being  expected  at 
the  entertainment,  are  left  to  their  own  devices,  and  having 
nowhere  else  to  go,  descend  from  the  sky  to  annoy  and  pester 
mankind.  It  is  to  prevent  them  from  entering  their  abodes 
that  men  kindle  in  front  of  them  the  tiny  bonfires.  The  ob- 
jects of  so  much  excluding  care  bear  the  suggestive  name  of 
“ floating  and  attaching  devils.” 

So  numerous  and  active  a host  of  deities  would  seem  wor- 
thy the  tribute  of  some  shrine ; but  they  have  none,  unless 
a jail  may  by  antithesis  be  supposed  to  take  its  place. 

You  cannot  travel  far  on  any  Korean  road  without  pass- 
ing one  of  these  jails.  It  is  in  the  form  of  an  ancient  tree 
around  whose  base  lies  piled  a heap  of  stones.  The  tree  is 
sacred ; superstition  has  preserved  it,  where  most  of  its  fellows 
have  gone  to  feed  the  subterranean  ovens.  It  is  not  usually 
very  large,  nor  does  it  look  extremely  venerable,  so  that  it  is 
at  least  open  to  suspicion  that  its  sanctity  is  an  honor  which  is 
passed  along  from  oak  to  acorn  or  from  pine  to  seed.  However, 
it  is  usually  a fair  specimen  of  a tree,  and  where  there  are  few 
others  to  vie  with  it,  comes  out  finely  by  comparison.  Other- 
wise there  is  nothing  distinctive  about  the  tree,  except  that  it 
exists, — that  it  is  not  cut  down  and  borne  off  to  the  city  on  the 

^ Yu  Kil  Chun,  a Korean,  used  to  have  discussions  ■with  his  brother  as  to  whether, 
by  climbing  a mountain,  you  got  nearer  heaven.  He  held  that  you  did  not,  not  because 
he  believed  heaven  to  be  very  far  off,  but  because  he  thought  it  to  surround  the  earth 
with  a uniform  thickness,  irrespective  of  the  height  from  which  it  started,  like  some 
material  covering,  following  the  contours. 


202 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


back  of  some  bull,  there  to  vanish  in  smoke.  On  its  branches 
hang-,  commonly,  a few  old  rags,  evidently  once  of  brilliantly 
colored  cloth ; they  look  to  be  shreds  of  the  garments  of  such 
unwary  travellers  as  approached  too  close.  But  a nearer  in- 
spection shows  them  to  be  tied  on  designedly.  The  heap  of 
small  stones  piled  around  the  base  of  the  tree  gives  one  the 
impression  at  first  that  the  road  is  about  to  undergo  repairs, 
which  it  sadly  needs,  and  that  the  stones  have  been  collected 
for  the  purpose.  This,  however,  is  a fallacy : no  Korean  road 
ever  is  repaired. 

The  spot  is  called  Son  Wang  Don,  or  “The  Home  of  the 
King  of  the  Fairies.”  The  stones  help  to  form  what  was  once 
a fairy  temple,  now  a devil  jail ; and  the  strips  of  cloth  are 
pieces  of  garments  from  those  who  believed  themselves  pos- 
sessed of  devils  or  feared  lest  they  might  become  so.  A man 
caught  by  an  evil  spirit  exiles  a part  of  his  clothing  to  the 
branches  of  one  of  these  trees,  so  as  to  delude  the  demon  into 
attaching  there. 

Tlie  origin  of  the  practice  is  handed  down  by  legend  as 
follows : In  olden  times,  during  one  of  the  many  wars  with 
China,  a certain  Korean  general  found  himself,  on  the  very  eve 
of  battle,  destitute  of  ammunition.  Fortunately,  he  was  well 
posted  on  the  top  of  a mountain.  In  this  trying  situation  he 
dreamed  a dream.  In  his  vision,  a goddess  appeared  to  him 
and  showed  him  a heap  of  stones  under  a tree,  which  she 
informed  him  would  do  to  throw  down  upon  the  heads  of  his 
assailants.  In  the  morning  he  found  the  spot  he  had  dreamt  of, 
and  then  bade  his  army  collect  as  many  more  stones,  for  tlie 
same  purpose,  as  they  coidd  find.  These  they  subsequently 
peppered  the  foe  with,  to  such  effect  that  he  won  the  battle; 
whereupon  lie  ordered  collections  of  stones,  like  tlie  one  he  had 
seen  in  his  dream,  to  be  made  throughout  the  land,  to  be  ready 
for  any  like  emergencies  in  the  future.  With  the  pile  of  stones 


THE  DEMOX  WOESHIP. 


203 


was  naturally  associated  the  memory  of  the  goddess.  They 
came  to  be  regarded  as  temples  to  her ; and  because  of  her 
good-will  to  men,  they  were  fixed  nj)on  as  most  suitable  places 
to  which  to  exile  the  evil  spirits.  Thus  they  developed  into 
devil  jails. 

The  legend,  or  tale,  goes  on  to  state  that  the  vision  was  a 
day-dream  of  victory,  and  that  the  supernatural  part  of  it  was 
invented  by  the  general  to  realize  his  dream.  He  compassed 
liis  end ; but  the  superstition,  once  started,  rolled  on  through 
the  ages  by  its  own  momentum. 

This  is  a view  of  one  half  of  the  belief,  the  side  of  practice  ^ 
and,  as  is  consequent  in  superstition,  this  side  has  for  the 
objects  of  its  devotion  the  evil  half  of  the  heavenly  beings. 
The  good  have  their  portion  wholly  in  the  theory  of  the  mat- 
ter. They  are  worshipped  a little,  but  even  this  little  is  solely 
to  obtain  their  aid  against  the  demons.  In  other  words,  they 
are  supplicated,  but  never  adored.  In  number  they  are  legion. 
Tliey  are,  for  the  most  part,  heavenly,  though  many  of  them 
belong  to  earth.  Compared  with  the  devils,  they  are  pleasingly 
indefinite,  because  the  ideas  they  embody  are  not  so  concrete. 
Every  one  fears  the . lightning,  but  few  can  see  the  special 
potency  of  the  abstract  good.  They  are  not  represented,  to 
nn"  knowledge,  as  warring  with  the  powers  of  darkness.  In 
heaven  apparently  the  earthly  law  is  reversed,  and  right  is 
might  simply  by  virtue  of  being.  They  strike  down  bad  men 
occasionally,  but  they  leave  the  actual  fighting  with  the  demons 
to  the  ancient  Chinese  general.  They  are  tolerably  lazy ; for 
they  acquiesce  in  the  existence  of  evil,  unless  specially  impor- 
tuned. They  even  so  far  forget  their  duty  as  to  leave  the 
earth  at  times  destitute  of  its  proper  supply  of  rain.  This  is 
the  most  serious  of  omissions  on  their  part,  because  productive 
of  the  direst  of  calamities  to  mankind ; for  upon  a suitable 
quantity^  of  water  depends  the  rice-crop,  and  upon  the  rice-crop 


204 


THE  LA.XD  OF  THE  :\IOIlXIXG  CALM. 


depends  the  existence  of  man.  In  seasons  of  drought,  therefore, 
tlie  whole  nation  becomes  deeply  religious.  Prayers  through- 
out the  land  are  made  by  the  officials;  and  if  of  no  avail,  at  last 
the  king  throws  himself  into  the  breach,  and  becomes  a medi- 
ator, a suppliant  to  the  gods  in  behalf  of  his  people.  Leaving 
his  comfortable  palace,  he  proceeds  to  a building  erected  some- 
Avhere  out  in  the  country  for  the  purpose,  and  there  he  stays 
night  and  day  in  supplication  upon  the  ground.  Fortunately, 
in  the  nature  of  things,  rain  eventually  follows  a drought,  so 
that  at  last  he  is  enabled  to  leave  his  exceedingly  painful 
position  successful  in  his  petitions.  In  the  mean  while  the 
rice-crop  is  often  ruined. 

Intermediate  between  the  virtuous  and  the  vicious  is  a 
third  class  of  spirits,  that  are  neutral,  — neutral,  that  is,  as 
regards  their  moral  qualities.  They  inhabit  the  earth,  and  are 
an  inoffensive  lot.  They  have  no  special  reason  to  exist,  but 
neither  has  man.  To  Korean  ideas  the  one  has  as  much  raison 
d'etre  as  the  other.  They  pass  their  time  much  as  he  does, 
without  the  unpleasant  necessity  of  having  to  earn  their  living. 
They  frequent  all  sorts  of  places,  but  have  a preference  for 
mountains.  Their  life  is  one  long  Korean  holiday.  Some  are 
more  philosophic  than  others ; and  these  are  very  good  com- 
pam’,  as  the  following  story  shows.  Apart  from  its  general 
information,  the  tale  has  particular  interest,  as  being  another 
form,  from  distant  and  hermit  Korea,  of  the  Avidespread  myth 
of  Eip  Van  Winkle  and  its  kindred  folk-lore.  Much  as  Ave 
enjoy  the  legend  of  the  Kaaterskills,  it  is,  as  AA^e  knoAV,  only  an 
imported  ivy  from  other  Avails  of  the  past.  Our  European  civi- 
lization in  America  is  not  yet  old  enough  to  have  so  beautiful 
an  outgroAvth.  But  in  a land  Avhere  the  very  tile-roofs  are 
OA'ergroAvn  Avith  grass,  Ave  can  hardly  be  surprised  at  finding  it. 
Thus  it  is  that  Korea,  too,  has  its  Avanderer,  Avho  by  acci- 
dent exchanged  the  cycle  of  earth  for  the  cycle  of  the  spirits. 


THE  DEHOH  WORSHIP. 


205 


We  mortals  count  our  time  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  to  its 
setting.  The  gods,  who  know  not  darkness,  have  the  summer 
for  their  noon,  the  winter  for  their  night.  A year  of  this  world 
is  a day  of  heaven. 

There  lived,  once  upon  a time,  a certain  well-to-do  country- 
man, whose  business  took  him  to  the  woods.  He  was  a feller 
of  timber,  and  in  pursuit  of  his  Avork  he  often  Avent  far  into 
the  mountains.  All  Koreans  are  fond  of  Nature,  and  this 
man  Avas  no  exception  to  the  rule ; so,  Avith  his  business  as 
excuse  and  his  loAm  as  incentive,  he  AA’ould  ramble  on  into  the 
A’iro'in  forest.  One  da\^  he  AA’andered  farther  than  usual,  and 
found  himself  at  last  some  distance  up  the  side  of  the  mountain. 
Before  him  lay  the  peak,  seemingly  close;  and  under  the  impulse 
of  that  species  of  folly  AA'hich  urges  men  to  go  to  the  top  of  any- 
thing lofty,  in  spite  of  their  better  judgment  and  repeated  expe- 
rience that  the  end  never  justifies  the  means,  he  climbed  it. 
When  at  last  he  reached  the  summit,  he  found  there  four  old 
men  busily  intent  on  a game  of  go.^  They  Avere  seated,  squat- 
ting- in  a circle,  the  go-board  in  their  midst,  Avhile  around  them 
on  the  grass  lay  flagons  of  sul,  and  a page  sat  hard  by  to 
replenish  their  cups  as  they  Avere  emptied.  The  four  looked 
up  as  he  approached,  boAved  Avith  great  civility,  and  observing 
that  he  Avas  tired,  ordered  the  page  to  pour  him  out  some  sul. 
He  sat  doAvn,  sipped  the  sul,  and  looked  on  at  the  game. 
After  tari-3ung  Avhat  seemed  but  a short  time  in  such  agreeable 
companjr,  he  rose  to  take  his  leaA-e.  They  bade  him  good-bx' 
AA'ith  as  much  courtesy  as  they  had  AA-elcomed  him,  and  he 
started  doAA-n  the  mountain.  He  descended  Avith.out  accident, 
and  reached  the  bottom  in  much  less  time  than  it  had  taken 
him  to  go  up.  Mindful  of  his  AA'ife  and  children,  he  struck 
out  for  home,  and  arriA*ed  there  in  safety  before  sunset.  On 

* Our  gol>aiig  is  derived,  though  much  modified,  from  this  game.  The  name  is 
probably  taheii  from  “go  ban,”  whuh  means  “the  go-board.” 


206 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  LIOEXING  CALM. 


entering  liis  own  abode,  lie  was  somewhat  surprised  to  find  the 
place  occupied  by  people  he  had  never  seen.  What  was  Avorse, 
they  ordered  him  off  the  jiremises  as  an  intruder.  He  remon- 
strated at  being  thus  turned  out  of  his  oavu  house ; and  in  the 
altercation  that  ensued,  the  master  of  the  place  came  out  from 
an  inner  room  to  see  Avhat  Avas  ffoiim-  on.  He  Avas  a man  Avell 
on  in  life,  and  yet  the  Avoodman  never  remembered  to  have  laid 


A TEA-FIGHT  OF  GNOMES. 


eA’es  on  him  before.  Appealing  to  him,  hoAvever,  for  redress, 
the  Avoodman  Avas  asked  his  name,  and  on  giving  it,  the  man 
replied  that  such  Avas  his  first  name,  too.'  On  further  question- 
ing, it  turned  out  that  the  present  incumbent  aa^ts  the  Avood- 
man’s  oavu  ofrandson.  The  AA'anderer  had  come  back  to  another 
Avorld.  His  AAo’fe  had  long  since  died,  his  children  all  AA-ere 
buried;  most  of  their  children,  too,  had  passed  aAvay,  and  his 


1 111  Korea,  the  first  name  is  equivalent  to  our  last  name. 


THE  DEMON  WORSHIP. 


207 


gi’eat-grandcliiklren  had  grown  up  to  manhood.  He  had  been 
gone  one  Imndred  years. 

Whether  the  spirits  be  good,  bad,  or  indifferent,  they  all 
equally  share  the  misfortune  of  being  ordinaiy.  In  all  my- 
thologies the  gods  are  not  over  far  removed  in  dignity  from 
their  worshippers.  The  gulf  between  adorers  and  adored 
widens  with  the  civilization  of  the  race.  But  still  there  is  a 
certain  degree  of  nobleness  and  almost  grandeur  in  the  pro- 
ducts of  Aryan  mythology.  With  far-Eastern  gods,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  is  a striking  amount  of  very  average  human- 
ity in  their  composition ; and  this  is  all  ihe  more  glaring 
because  of  the  contrast  of  a childish  faith  with  a maturer 
civilization. 

The  evil-spirit  faith  of  Korea  is,  I think,  related  to  the  Shinto 
fliith  of  Japan.  The  two  differ  now,  it  is  true,  considerably  in 
detail,  but  both  are  probably  only  forms  of  the  common  aborigi- 
nal superstitions.  There  is  one  point,  that  is  suggestive,  in 
•which  the  two  have  agreed  from  the  earliest  times.  They  alike 
worship  the  earthly  ruler  as  divine.  But  there  is  a line  drawn 
in  Korea  which  does  not  exist  in  Japan,  between  what  exists  in 
the  flesh  and  what  is  entirel}'  heavenly.  In  the  peninsula  the 
Avorship  of  heavenl}’  spirits  is  a perquisite  of  royalty.  The  king 
worships  the  spirits,  and  the  common  people  Avorship  him.  This 
is  considered  sufficiently  near  for  them  to  approach  their  gods. 
It  is  not  the  only  faith  in  Avhich  stepping-stones  are  deemed 
necessary. 

But  there  are  certain  exceptions.  EA^ery  one,  for  instance, 
is  alloAved  to  have  his  “ household  spirit  of  earth.”  This  is  a 
pure  Korean  spirit.  The  conception  is  as  native  as  the  identity. 
Every  part  of  the  surface  of  the  land,  according  to  Korean  no- 
tions, has  its  spirit ; but  so  long  as  the  spot  remains  uninhabited, 
the  spirit  has  nothing  to  do  Avith  man.  As  soon,  however, 
as  a man  settles  in  the  place,  the  spirit  becomes  a sort  of  lar, 


208 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOEXIXG  CALM. 


or  household  god,  and  requires  to  be  recognized  and  •wor- 
shipped. Thougli  the  spirit  is  indigenous  to  tlie  soil,  and  of 
its  essence,  as  it  were,  he  is  not  in  the  least  space-defined ; 
that  is,  he  does  not  belong  to  the  land  as  a whole  rather 
than  to  any,  the  smallest  part  of  it.  lie  is  as  indefinite  as 
space  itself.  He  is  the  many  in  one.  It  is  a subtle  concep- 
tion. If,  for  instance,  one  man  owns  ten  acres  of  land,  he 
worships  a single  spirit  brooding  over  the  ten  acres  of  ground. 
But  if  two  men  subsequently  buy  the  same  land,  each  at  once 
begins  to  worship  a spirit  of  his  own,  and  not  half  of  the 
previous  man’s  genius  loci. 

The  king  worships  the  spirit  for  the  whole  land.  The  peo- 
ple pray  to  this  spirit ; but  they  erect  no  altar  to  him,  as  he  is 
not  more  in  one  place  than  in  another. 

Tliere  is  another  spirit  vouchsafed  to  the  adoration  of  the 
people.  He  is  known  as  “ The  Blesser  of  Children.”  He  is 
sent  by  the  supreme  S]:)irit  to  every  house  in  Korea,  to  pro- 
tect the  children  from  the  devils  who  try  to  lure  away  the 
little  ones  in  order  to  make  of  them  their  own  successors. 
If  this  is  the  way  the  demon  company  is  recruited,  their 
simplicity  becomes  more  explicable. 

One  of  the  most  ingenious  of  the  spirits  is  “The  Purveyor  to 
Tigers  Spirit.”  He  frequents  the  mountains,  because  the  tiger 
himself  does.  After  a tiger  has  eaten  a man,  he  makes  use  of 
the  soul  of  the  devoured  as  a means  to  jirovide  himself  with  an- 
other meal.  As  he  has  assimilated  the  bodv,  so  for  a time  he 
owns  the  soul.  So  he  sends  it  out  to  loiter  on  the  mountain- 
paths  until  it  falls  in  with  some  man  who  chances  to  pass  that 
wav.  Tlien  by  subtle  mental  spells  it  lures  him  off  the  path 
into  the  thickets.  The  man  suddenly  feels  thirsty,  and  imagines 
tliat  he  hears  water;  or  he  feels  tired,  and  thinks  he  spies  a 
tempting  spot  among  the  trees  where  he  can  lie  doAvn.  He 
Avanders  aAvay  into  the  unfrequented  Avoods,  and  is  surprised, 


THE  DEMOI^  'WOESHIP. 


209 


killed,  and  eaten  by  the  tiger.  The  soul  of  the  first  victim 
is  then  released  from  its  bondage,  and  tlie  soul  of  the  second 
takes  its  place. 

There  are  two  classes  of  spirits  wliich  possess  a special  inter- 
est. They  may  be  called  historical  spirits ; for  the}^  are  those 
which  have  to  do  with  the  history  of  the  land,  and  those  which 
are  connected  with  the  history  of  its  rulers. 

The  earliest  of  the  myths  about  Korea  represent  the  land 
as  a fairy  land,  — the  home  of  the  spirit  of  longevity  and  his 
companions.  They  lived  there  l)ecanse  of  the  beauty  of  the 
moinitains  and  the  lakes,  so  the  present  inhabitants  say.  They 
dwelt  principally  upon  three  lofty  peaks,  — Ha  La,  in  the 
island  of  Qnelpart ; Knn  Gan,  or  “ The  Precious  Stone ; ” 
and  Te  Pek  San,  or  “ The  Great  White  Monntain.”  An  an- 
cient emperor  of  China,  it  is  said,  once  tried  to  catch  one  of 
these  fairies  of  longevity  at  the  time  when  they  still  dwelt  in 
the  Middle  Kingdom,  if  perchance  from  them  he  might  obtain 
the  elixir  of  life,  and  continue,  though  a mortal,  to  exist  for- 
ever. He  failed  to  take  captive  the  spirit ; bnt  he  so  fright- 
ened them  all  that  they  fled  to  the  East  and  settled  upon  the 
three  mountains.  Though  these  were  their  earthly  homes,  their 
home  also  was  in  the  sky.  They  descended  to  earth  to  revel 
in  the  forests ; and  when  for  the  time  satiated  with  pleasure, 
thev  returned  again  to  heaven. 

As  yet  the  land  Avas  nameless.  A name  came  to  it  Avith 
the  next  myth.  A long  AAdiile  ago  — the  Korean  guess  of 
three  thousand  years  Avill  do  as  Avell  as  another  date  — a certain 
spirit  called  Tan  Knn,  or  ‘‘The  Lord  of  the  Oak-tree,”  de- 
scended from  Te  Pek  San,  and  made  himself  ruler  of  the  coun- 
ti’A'.  He  called  it  Chosdn,  or  “ The  Land  of  the  Morninw- 
Calm.”  If  the  spirit  spoke  Korean,  he  named  it  Achim  Kolmn. 
All  Ave  knoAv  is  that  AAdien,  later,  Chinese  came  to  be  the  lan- 
guage of  literature,  the  name  Avas  Sinicized  into  Chosen.  In 

14 


210 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


contrast  witli  the  spirits  of  long-evity,  Tan  Kiin  is  described  as 
a true  or  real  spirit.  He  is  known  to-day  among  tlie  masses 
rather  as  a spiritual  man  than  as  a manlike  spirit.  Tlie  com- 
mon people  firmly  believe  liiin  to  have  lived  upon  this  earth. 
But  such  was  not  his  original  character.  As  being,  after  all, 
more  tangible  tlian  his  predecessors,  he  is  singled  out  as  the 
father  of  history.  In  the  far-East  the  only  thing  of  impor- 
tance in  sucli  historical  assertions  is  that  the  farther  off  tlie 
person,  the  more  desirable  he  is  as  an  historical  character. 
The  existence  of  proof,  or  the  want  of  it,  is  quite  an  unne- 
cessary consideration. 

From  what  we  know  of  the  migrations  of  those  races  whicli 
peopled  the  peninsula,  we  can  trace  the  thread  of  truth  running 
tlirough  this  web  of  fiction.  These  races  came  from  beyond  the 
ranges  to  the  north  and  west  wliich  culminate  in  Pck  Tu  San, 
or  “The  Ever  White  Mountain,”  and  thence  travelled  to  the 
south  and  east. 

The  idea,  not  only  of  a rule  by  divine  right  but  of  a riglit 
to  rule  by  divine  origin,  is  one  of  tlie  fundamental  tenets  of 
far-Eastern  royalty.  The  next  myths  that  Ave  meet  Avith  have 
therefore  to  do  Avith  the  ancestors  of  the  dynasties  that  in  their 
day  liaA^e  governed  the  land. 

After  the  reign  of  innumerable  petty  princes, — three  thou- 
sand they  are  roughly  reputed  to  have  been,  — the  country 
Avas  divided  into  three  large  portions.  Three  houses  had  SAval- 
loAved  up  all  the  rest.  One  day  the  king  of  one  of  these  Avas 
Avalking  in  a Avood,  AA'hen  his  attention  Avas  attracted  by  a 
magpie  caAving  as  if  he  Avere  the  mouthpiece  of  some  great 
excitement.  FolloAving  up  the  bird,  he  saAv  in  the  thicket 
Avhat  looked  like  a golden  calf.  He  pushed  the  twigs  aside, 
peered  in,  and  discoA’ered  a box,  Avhich  he  took  back  Avith  him 
to  the  palace.  He  then  summoned  his  spouse,  told  her  the 
story,  and  the  tAvo  together  opened  the  box.  To  their  great 


THE  DEMOX  WOKSHIP. 


211 


surprise  they  found  inside  of  it  an  egg  of  pure  gold.  Being 
superstitious,  the  king  was  afraid  of  it,  and  was  minded  to  get 
rid  of  the  box  by  throwing  it  into  some  running  water  or  burn- 
ing it  up.  But  tlie  queen,  a more  rational  soul,  persuaded  him 
to  keep  it  as  a curiosity.  They  according!}'  put  tl'.e  thing  aside, 
and  on  going  stealthily  to  look  at  it  the  next  day,  found  in  its 
place  a 1)oy.  He  was  precocious,  and  had  already  acquired 
the  use  of  his  tongue,  for  he  at  once  called  the  king  “ father.” 
He  informed  him  that  he  was  the  son  of  a spirit,  and  had  been 
sent  by  his  spirit  parent  to  be  the  king’s  successor.  This  an- 
noyed and  disturbed  his  i\rajesty,  who  at  once  suspected  him  to 
be  some  demon  disguised.  But  the  queen  again  came  to  the 
rescue,  and  interceded  for  the  child.  He  was  accordingly  suf- 
fered to  grow  up,  — a feat  he  accomplished  so  successfully,  and 
in  tlie  course  of  which  he  developed  so  much  intelligence,  that 
the  king  gradually  came  to  love  him  too,  and  at  his  death  ap- 
pointed liim  his  successor  to  the  throne  of  Sinra,  as  his  kingdom 
was  called,  according  as  the  boy  had  foretold.  His  name  be- 
came Kim  (meaning  “ gold  ”) ; and  he  was  the  ancestor  of  all 
the  present  Kims,  avIio  are  to-day  one  of  the  most  noted  fami- 
lies of  Korea.  They  remained  the  kings  of  Sinra  till  that 
kingdom  was  conquered  by  its  neighbor  Koryd ; and  though 
no  longer  royal,  they  have  been  powerful  nobles  ever  since. 

There  are  many  such  tales ; they  form  a sort  of  royal  folk- 
lore. Just  as  himilies  ennobled  to-day  think  it  necessary  to 
discover,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  some  immemorial  coat  of  arms, 
so  the  royal  houses  esteemed  it  absolutely  necessary  to  trace 
their  lineage  to  spirits.  They  are  very  particular  about  it, 
because  it  is,  as  it  were,  the  sanction  to  their  position.  The}' 
also  guard  it,  once  obtained,  with  very  jealous  care.  Their 
daughters  are  never  allowed  to  marry  common  people ; they 
can  only  form  alliances  with  such  as  also  have  spirit  blood 
in  their  veins. 


212 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


Tliere  is  another  tale  of  similar  construction  in  resrard  to  the 
origin  of  the  ruling  house  of  the  kingdom  of  Koryo.  This 
kingdom,  at  first  coexistent  Avith  the  other  tA\m,  eventually  swal- 
loAved  them  both,  and  gave  its  name  to  the  whole  peninsula. 
This  story,  unlike  the  last,  is  not  a tale  of  a supplanting  dynasty, 
but  of  an  original  stock.  The  first  king  of  Koryo  Avas  the  de- 
scendant of  a dragon.  An  old  dragon,  apparently  Avearied  Avith 
being  a dragon,  changed  himself,  for  A’ariety’s  sake,  into  a A'eiy 
handsome  man,  ascended  to  heaven,  and  there  married  the 
dau2-hter  of  a ffod.  After  the  Avedding'  he  took  his  bride 
doAvn  to  Koryo,  Avhere  they  lived  together  after  the  fashion 
of  men.  In  this  pleasant  land  of  their  honeymoon  the  days 
slipped  aAvay  till,  in  due  course  of  time,  a son  Avas  born  to  the 
cou])le ; Avhereupon  they  both  took  it  into  their  heads  to  die, 
leaving  the  child  to  the  care  of  a neighbor.  Just  before  his 
death  the  dragon  endoAved  his  son  Avith  a name,  Wang,  Avhich 
signifies  “king,”  conjuring  his  neighbor  at  the  same  time  not  to 
reveal  to  a soul  the  boy’s  name  nor  his  descent.  If  he  kept  the 
secret  he  Avould  be  blessed ; otherAvise  he  Avonld  assuredly  be 
punished.  So  speaking,  both  the  dragon  and  his  Avife  vanished, 
to  take  on  some  other  shape,  probably  not  having  found  hu- 
man existence  as  agreeable  in  practice  as  they  had  imagined  it 
to  be.  The  son,  Avhose  secret  Avas  sufliciently  preserA’ed,  ac- 
complished his  destiny.  Though  personally  he  never  amounted 
to  much,  his  son  in  due  time  gathered  about  him  a band  of  fol- 
loAA’ers,  concpiered  Koryo,  and  eA'cntually  became  master  of  the 
Avhole  land. 


SOUL  BY  DAY, 


213 


CHAPTER  XXL 


SOUL  BY  DAY. 


F the  two  essential  properties  that  commend  any  method 


of  conveyance,  speed  and  bodily  comfort,  neither,  to  our 
notions,  is  a conspicuous  feature  of  the  Korean  palanquin. 
Though  the  coolies  who  carry  it  do  contrive  to  shuffle  along 
a trifle  faster  than  one  would  care  to  walk,  the  slight  gain  in 
speed  is  more  than  offset  to  foreign  legs  by  the  torture  required 
to  endure  it.  In  consequence  of  this  failure  of  the  machine  to 
keep  its  implied  promises,  and  thus  to  justify  in  my  eyes  its 
existence,  I dismissed  it  as  an  imposing  sham,  and  chose,  where 
possible,  to  sacrifice  even  etiquette  to  comfort,  and  walk  instead. 
Such  irrational  conduct  on  my  part  greatly  disturbed  the  good 
Colonel  at  first ; but  finding  my  aversion  as  intense  as  it  was 
bigoted,  and  perceiving  his  protests  vain  to  shake  my  deter- 
mination, he  finally  desisted  from  his  attempts  at  dissuasion, 
doubtless  comforting  himself  with  the  reflection  that  in  a tem- 
perament where  all  was  so  odd,  one  idiosyncrasy  the  more 
could  make  no  difference.  It  was  especially  in  expeditions 
across  the  city  that  I thus  travelled  al  fresco. 

In  these  walks  I suffered  little  annoyance  from  inquisitive- 
ness. In  motion  lay  safety.  Few  of  the  idlers  in  the  streets 
cared  to  indulge  their  curiosity  at  the  cost  of  the  exertion 
necessary  to  keep  up.  But  if,  in  an  unguarded  moment,  I 
paused,  I became  at  once  a centre  of  observation.  A crowd 


214 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


collected,  with  an  alacrity  suggestive  of  premeditation,  as  if  its 
members  Lad  been  simpl}'  waiting  to  settle,  and  continued  to 
grow  till  it  impeded  travel  and  in  aggravated  instances  forced 
many  innocent  citizens,  no  doubt  against  their  Avill,  to  become 
implicated  accessories.  There  Avas  not  even  the  hypocrisy  of 
intention  in  the  behavior  of  these  self-invited  spectators,  prac- 
tised in  Japan.  They  stopped  in  simple  directness  of  purpose 
to  gaze  at  me,  and  as  yet  saw  little  necessity  to  seem  to  be 
observiim  somethiim  else. 

Under  normal  conditions  the  streets  Avere  in  one  respect  Avell 
suited  for  Avalking.  The  chief  part  of  the  traA'el  Avas  done  on 
foot.  There  being  no  carriages  and  very  rarely  a horse,  one 
Avas  not  obliged  to  keep  a sharj)  lookout  not  to  be  run  doAvn, 
but  could  indulge  in  the  nuAvonted  luxury  of  strolling  along, 
oblivious  of  his  felloAv-travellers,  and  drinking  in  Avith  the  e}’es 
the  panorama,  cpiite  regardless  of  any  possible  rude  aAvakeniug. 
Practically  the  only  occupants  of  the  street,  except  the  pedes- 
trians, Avere  palanquins  and  bulls  of  burden,  and  the  pace  of  the 
latter  Avas  even  slower  than  one’s  OAvn. 

In  other  respects  the  streets,  it  must  be  confessed,  Avere 
not  particularly  adapted  to  their  purpose.  They  bore  the  ap- 
pearance, like  the  country  roads,  of  having  groAvn  to  be  Avhat 
they  Avere.  With  the  exception  of  the  gutter-moats,  they 
seemed  to  be  simply  aboriginal  space ; and  I am  unable  to 
recall  ever  having  Avitnessed  any  Avork  Avhatever  bestoAved  upon 
them.  In  dry  times  they  did  Avell  enough  ; but  in  rainy  weather 
they  degenerated  into  sloughs,  and  people  took  to  making  for 
themselves  a path  Avithin  the  path.  Especially  after  a lieaAy 
snoAvfall  the  effect  Avas  unique.  Fortunately  for  the  rest  of  the 
Avorld,  several  of  the  idlers  embraced  that  occasion  to  stay  at 
home.  Of  such  persons  as  did  venture  abroad,  nobody  had  a 
desire  to  Avalk  in  the  snow ; so  each  folloAved  his  predecessor  in 
Indian  file,  that  he  might  aA'ail  himself  of  former  footsteps,  and 


SuUL  BY  DAY. 


215 


the  liiglnvay  degenerated,  for  the  time  being,  into  a trail  that 
wound  about  here  and  there  in  most  arbitrary  meanderings, 
the  stereotyped  whim  of  the  first  passer,  across  a level  breadth 
of  virgin  wliite. 

A few  of  the  main  streets  had  been  laid  out  with  a view 
to  directness,  and  were  passably  straight.  As  for  the  others, 
they  were  delightfully  crooked  ; so  that  before  you  knew  them 
individually,  you  had  very  little  notion,  on  venturing  into  a 
new  one,  where  you  would  eventually  turn  up.  The  spirit  of 
investigation  procured  me  several  valuable  topographical  dis- 
coveries. , But  I will  secretly  confess  that  I never  succeeded 
in  finding  what  I especially  souglit,  — short  cuts.  The  objec- 
tion to  these  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  path  was  pretty  sure  to 
end  in  somebody’s  back- yard,  whence  escape,  short  of  igno- 
miniously  retracing  your  steps,  led  you  up  over  a stone  wall 
and  down  into  some  other  quiet  individual’s  secluded  garden. 
The  easiest  way  to  reach  your  destination  was  to  pay  little  or 
no  attention  to  direction,  but  to  be  sure  to  stick  to  the  broad 
road.  A knowledge  of  one’s  Soul  only  strengthened  this 
instinct  into  a habit. 

On  a clear  day  in  winter  — and  about  half  the  days  are 
clear  — tlie  view  from  any  of  the  broader  city  streets  is  most 
beautiful.  The  houses  are  so  low  and  the  mountains  so  high 
that  in  the  main  thoroughfiires  the  peaks  can  be  seen  towering 
above  the  roofs  on  either  hand,  as  you  pass  along  the  street. 
Even  in  the  narrower  alloys  they  block  the  ends  of  the  vistas 
in  front  and  behind.  They  stand  out  bold  and  sharp  against 
the  blue,  covered  with  the  brilliantly  white  snow,  while  tlie 
north  wind  falls  fresh  and  keen  upon  the  city  from  over  their 
tops.  In  spite  of  its  cold,  it  is  a highly  esteemed  wind  in  Soul, 
for  it  is  the  great  kite-flying  wind.  Here  and  there,  gathered 
in  favorable  positions,  you  come  across  groups  of  men  and 
boys  standing  gazing  up  into  the  sky.  Oftener  than  not,  they 


21G 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKXIXG  CALM. 


stand  right  in  the  middle  of  the  highway ; and  other  people, 
as  they  pass  the  spot,  turn  aside  for  the  gazers,  as  a matter  of 
course.  The  first  time  I came  upon  these  star-gazers  in  broad 
daylight,  who  treated  their  fellow-mortals  so  cavalierly  and 
received  such  a tribute  of  consideration  in  return,  I was  at  a 
loss  to  comprehend  the  cause  of  their  rapt  and  respected  at- 
tention. But  on  looking  in  the  same  direction  myself,  I saw 
far  up  a rectangle  of  paper  sailing  across  the  blue.  And  then, 
as  my  glance  wandered,  I discovered  another  and  then  another, 
and  away  off  in  the  distance  still  others,  hovering  over  the  roofs 
of  the  city  like  great  white  birds.  As  they  are  not  Avholly 
white,  but  in  part  colored,  there  was  at  intervals  a momentary 
flash  of  red  or  blue  or  brown  to  the  distant  sheen  as  the  kites 
turned  in  the  air.  Sometimes  they  soared  alone  in  solitary 
grandeur ; sometimes  they  flew  in  pairs,  and  the  two  hovered 
about  each  other  like  a couple  of  angry  birds.  This  betok- 
ened a kite-fight.  Two  kites  are  flown  near  each  other,  and 
then  each  so  handled  tliat  the  sti’ings  shall  be  brought  to  in- 
tersect. Then,  by  adroit  manoeuvring,  each  tries  by  rubbing 
against  it  to  cut  the  other’s  string,  until  one  succeeds.  The 
severed  kite  falls  fluttering  to  earth,  while  the  victor,  relieved 
from  the  strain,  rises  with  a mocking  toss  of  triumph  yet  higher 
into  the  air.  There  is  so  much  skill  involved  in  the  manner  in 
which  one  string  may  be  made  to  cut  the  adversary’s  without 
being  parted  itself,  that  it  demands  the  appreciative  sympathy 
of  a large  concourse  of  do-nothings,  who  completely  surround 
the  kite-flier  and  gaze,  open-mouthed,  up  into  the  sky,  utterly 
oblivious  of  aught  else. 

The  kind  of  kite  in  favor  is  very  simple  in  construction 
and  equally  plain  in  ornament.  It  quite  lacks  the  elaborate 
grotesqueness  that  makes  of  the  Chinese  and  Japanese  varie- 
ties such  superbly  hideous  objects.  It  is  rectangular  and  tail- 
less, and  it  never  attains  any  very  great  size.  Its  one  beauty 


SOUL  BY  DAY. 


217 


consists  in  being  symmetrically  party-colored,  like  a harlequin 
or  a convict.  But  it  flies  just  as  veil  as  more  decorated  speci- 
mens of  its  class.  Boys  are  not  suffered  to  monopolize  the 
pastime.  Men  engage  in  it  witli  equal  enthusiasm,  and  kite- 
hying  is  a taste  which  is  never  outgrown.  January,  on  account 
of  the  prevalence  then  of  the  north  wind,  is  the  great  kite-flying 
month. 

Sharing  with  these  grown-up  toys  the  heavens  above  the 
citv,  is  a second  species  of  kite,  — this  time  not  apparent  but 
real  birds.  Like  the  turkey-buzzards  of  other  climes,  they  are 
the  scavengers  of  the  town;  or,  more  exactly,  they  sliare  this 
disagreeable  duty  witli  the  dogs.  They  contrast  Avell  Avith  the 
human  inventions  of  the  same  name,  their  great  motionless 
dusky  AA'iims  Avheeling’  them  round  in  stately  circles.  Though 
no  one  Avould  think  of  molesting  tliem,  they  rarely  descend  to 
tlie  streets,  except  on  sudden  SAvoops  ; and  the  houses  are  so 
loAv  that  tliey  seldom  roost  on  the  roofs.  They  select  trom 
preference  the  trees,  of  whicli  tliere  are  many  in  the  gardens 
that  lie  scattered  through  the  city.  Wherever  there  happens 
to  be  a group  of  these,  the  kites  congregate,  and  at  dusk  the 
branches  Avill  be  coA'ered  thick  Avith  birds  perching  on  them. 
The  branches  serve  also  for  resting-places  to  the  other  kind 
of  kites,  — unfortunate  specimens  of  their  species  Avhich,  having 
got  entangled  there  among  the  tAvigs,  are  left  to  perish  by  tlieir 
former  OAvners.  Tlie  shreds,  Avorn  to  differing-  deg-rees  of  ghast- 
liuess  by  tlie  Aveather,  hang,  pathetic  pendants,  side  by  side 
Avith  the  remains  of  last  A^ear’s  nests. 

There  is  one  other  place  that  is  a great  favorite  Avith  the 
birds.  It  is  a certain  double  gibbet-like  structure,  painted 
a bright  red ; and  it  stands  just  off  one  of  the  main  streets, 
at  the  entrance  to  another  narroAver  thoroughfare.  It  is 
a magnificent  post  of  observation  for  a kite  ; and  I rarely 
passed  under  it,  and  over  its  ghastly,  ghost-like  shadoAv  lying 


218 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


there  black  across  tlie  sunlit  path,  without  seeing  the  silhouette 
of  a bird  projecting  beyond  the  shade  of  the  cross-bar;  and  in- 
stinctively turning  and  looking  up,  there,  on  the  upper  trans- 
verse beam,  was  perched  the  motionless  body  of  a kite,  to  all 
appearance  sunk  in  lazy  drowsiness,  but  whose  winking  eye 
nothing  escaped. 

Soul  is,  in  all  respects  but  one,  the  most  sombre  city  I have 
ever  beheld,  and  in  that  one  trait  the  brin^htest.  This  singfle 
exception  to  the  universal  gloom  is  in  the  matter  of  dress.  But 
even  this  exception  is  essentially  superficial ; the  color  of  the 
garment  having  in  no  wise  sunk  in  to  tinge  the  character  of 
those  who  wear  it.  At  a distance,  Avhere  the  look  of  the  face 
is  second  to  the  effect  of  tlie  figure,  the  faintly  bluish-white 
tunics  lend  an  apparent  gayety  to  the  street.  But  on  a nearer 
approach  the  quiet,  sedate  expression  of  the  people  tends  to 
dispel  the  illusion.  Except  for  this  one  touch  of  brightness, 
all  is  preternaturally  sombre. 

In  the  first  place,  the  houses  are  devoid  of  windows,  except 
of  the  most  rudimentary  description.  In  the  side  streets  the 
effect  is  forbidding  in  the  extreme.  On  either  hand  are  long 
lines  of  wall,  protected  in  front  by  the  little  gutter-moats  and 
capped  with  a roofing  of  tiles.  Though  they  scarcely  look  it, 
they  are  the  sides  of  houses.  Except  for  a few  loopholes 
close  under  the  eaves,  they  are  indistinguishable  from  walls 
proper ; for  all  walls  in  Korea  are  as  thoroughly  roofed  as  the 
houses  themselves.  These  loopholes  are  small  square  apertures, 
fitted  Avith  small  sliding  screens  of  paper.  On  the  outside  are 
not  infrequently  iron  gratings.  Only  at  inteiwals  in  the  long 
line  of  stone  some  gateAvay  breaks  the  pitiless  exclusion,  and 
then  but  to  yield  at  best  a melancholy  glimpse  into  an  empty 
courtyard. 

In  the  second  place,  the  Koreans  are  not  a shop-keeping 
people.  Shops  are  feAv  in  number,  and  deficient  in  kind.  Ko 


SOUL  BY  DAY. 


219 


wonder  they  are  ; as,  even  as  it  is,  those  who  sell  seem  to  be 
far  in  excess  of  those  who  buy.  Trade  is  not  one  of  the  main- 
springs to  action  in  the  men,  and  woman  from  her  position  has 
never  tasted  the  delights  of  shopping.  Unfortunately  for  the 
shops,  it  is  not  true  there  that  judiciously  to  spend  money  is  her 
business ; injudiciously,  her  pleasure.  This  reduces  the  shops 
themselves  to  the  unattractive  minimum  of  the  necessary.  In 
default  of  panes  of  glass  large  enough,  the  whole  side  of  the 
house  toward  the  street  lies  open,  and  one  room  is  given  up  to 
displaying  the  goods.  In  consequence,  in  winter  the  business 
of  shopkeeping  is  cold  work  ; and  those  whose  wares  are  in  tlie 
least  danger  of  being  bought  sit  in  a tiny  den  behind,  from 
which,  through  a small  bit  of  glass,  they  keep  an  eye  on  the 
objects  in  front.  But  such  luxury  is  the  exception,  not  the 
rule.  Habit,  of  both  kinds,  is  usually  sufficient  protection 
to  the,  shopkeepers  in  their  day-long  vigil. 

The  Avider  streets  are  the  ones  most  occupied  by  such 
shops  as  there  are.  This  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  streets  are 
not  common  meeting-grounds,  but  simply  passage-ways,  and 
are  slighted  according!}".  Only  the  very  loAvest  order  of  houses 
front  on  them ; those  of  tlie  better  class  standing  in  dignified  se- 
clusion, each  in  the  centre  of  its  own  courtvard.  So  the  sides 
of  the  streets,  spurned  by  aristocratic  dAvelling-houses,  have 
yielded  themselves,  where  they  have  yielded  at  all,  to  the  pur- 
poses of  shops.  This  custom  is  one  common  also  to  China  and 
Japan. 

There  is  no  lack  of  traffic  in  the  streets.  Some  of  them  are 
positivel}^  thronged  Avith  men.  What  so  many  wanderers  are 
about  I haA"e  neA’er  been  able  satisfactorily  to  determine.  It  is 
not  loafing^  pure  and  simple.  From  their  actions  I feel  con- 
vinced that  each  has  an  object  present  to  his  mind,  though  he 
does  not  suffer  it  to  disturb  his  ])leasiire  ; for  no  one  eA-er  seemed 
to  be  in  the  least  inconA’enienced  by  pausing  in  his  Avalk  to  stop 


220 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  IVEORXIXG  CALM. 


and  stare  for  an  indefinite  period  at  anything-  wliicli  liappened 
to  strike  his  attention.  This  applies  only  to  the  common  peo- 
ple. Occasionally  some  official  is  borne  through  the  crowd  in 
his  palanrpiin,  preceded,  surrounded,  and  followed  by  a retinue 
of  servants  at  a fast  walk,  giving  one  the  U'hish  of  jDassing 
hurry ; but,  then,  it  is  a part  of  the  business  of  officials  every- 
where to  seem  as  busy  as  possible.  The  governed  always  like 
to  be  reminded  of  the  labor  involved  in  the  task  of  ffoverninff 
them. 

What  traffic  there  is,  is  mostly  very  local.  In  the  winter 
months  fire  and  water  ought  to  be  the  patron  gods  of  the 
business,  for  thev  are  the  causes  of  nine  tenths  of  it.  Thales 
would  have  experienced  little  difficulty  in  enforcing  the  cult  of 
his  noumena,  however  he  might  have  succeeded  in  inculcating 
his  principles.  Bulls,  almost  smothered  under  their  loads  of 
brushwood,  stream  incessantly  into  the  city,  and  depart  again 
later  in  long  files  unladen.  Men  rendered  nearly  invisible  by 
their  burdens  move  along  under  huge  towering  hods  filled  with 
the  same  material.  Both  man  and  beast  proceed  with  lofty  dis- 
regard of  other  Avayfarers,  Avhose  duty  it  is  to  get  out  of  the 
Avay.  The  same  individual  indifference,  begoften  of  Aveight,  is 
a characferistic  of  the  Avater-bearers.  A couple  of  pails  slung 
on  either  end  of  a yoke  across  the  shoulders  seem  by  their 
momentum  to  urge  the  carriers  i-ather  than  to  be  carried  them- 
selves. Filled  to  the  brim  at  the  Avell,  the  Avater  sAAuishes  about 
till  enough  has  been  spilled  to  loAver  it  to  the  safety  level,  and 
in  so  doing  leav’es  behind  it  a frozen  trail  of  icy  mound. 

The  Avells,  from  Avliich  the  carriers  draAV,  are  among  the  most 
picturesque  objects  in  the  city.  They  stand  in  out-of-the-AAmy 
corners  of  the  streets,  just  off  the  current  of  travel,  at  once  in 
the  higliAvay  and  yet  out  of  it.  They  are  built  of  stone  blocks, 
set  in  a circle,  and  their  rims  rise  a couple  of  feet  aboAm  the  sur- 
rounding ground,  Avhich  the  constant  coming  of  many  feet  has 


SOUL  BY  DAY. 


221 


raised  a little  from  the  highway  to  meet  them.  There  is  no 
hour  set  apart  for  drawing  water.  The  wells  are  placed  so  near 
those  who  use  them  that  all  hours  are  equally  good,  so  that 
throughout  the  day  a long  concourse  of  people  — professional 
carriers  and  household  women  servants  — constantly  come  and 
go.  Around  them  alone  is  it  commonly  possible  to  see  a wo- 
man’s face,  unless,  indeed,  you  chance  to  pass  a stream  during 
a clothes-washing.  For  these  two  occupations  the  female  ser- 
vants habitually  go  abroad  ; but  as  tliey  are  necessities  of  their 
calling,  no  one  is  supposed  to  notice  the  fact. 

Nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  town  stands  the  great  bell.  It  is 
a large  bell,  even  for  far-Eastern  bells,  and  occupies  the  whole  of 
a building  placed  at  the  meeting  of  two  important  cross-roads. 
Its  importance  is  quite  in  keeping  with  its  situation  and  size ; 
for  by  it  are  regulated  all  tlie  municipal  observances,  or  more 
properly  all  those  laws  to  Vv'hich  the  cit}'  is  subjected,  — for  in 
the  restrictions,  of  which  tlie  a})pointed  time  is  announced  bv 
the  solemn  sound  of  the  great  bell,  the  city  has  no  say  what- 
ever. Ordinarily  the  bell  is  quiescent  enough  during  the 
day,  and  only  awakes  to  activity  at  night. 

The  streets  as  they  meet  here  open  out  into  a sort  of  square, 
Avhich,  from  its  breadth  and  central  ])osition,  becomes  the  most 
frequented  spot  in  the  town.  It  is  used,  among  other  purposes, 
for  a brushwood  market.  Bulls  Avaiting  to  be  freed  from  their 
burden  stand  untethered  as  patiently  as  one  could  Avish.  Kind 
treatment  and  familiarity  for  ages  Avith  man  have  rendered  them 
as  docile  as  oxen.  Next  to  them  are  lines  of  booths,  Avhere  the 
smaller  articles  of  daily  use  or  simple  vanity  court  such  as 
from  employment  or  curiosity  frequent  the  square.  Side  bv 
side  AA'ith  these  are  fruit-stands,  or  perhaps  more  appropriate! v 
nut-stands ; for  the  fruits  of  Korea  are  nothing  to  speak  of, 
AA’hile  its  nuts  are  exceptionally  fine.  Oranges,  dried  persim- 
mons, pears  that  look  like  russet  apples  and  are  as  hard  and 


222 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOIINING  CALM. 


tasteless  as  potatoes,  chestnuts,  walnuts,  and  pinennts  are  among 
the  commonest  kinds  offered  for  sale.  The  most  interestiim 

O 

point  about  the  stands  is  the  systematic  way  in  which  the 
fruits  are  arranged.  Each  of  these,  according  to  its  kind,  is 
gathered  into  little  heaps.  So  symmetrical  are  the  heaps  that 
my  curiosity  was  at  once  piqued  into  counting  them ; and  on 
doing  so,  I discovered  that  each  heap  contained  exactly  the 
same  number  of  units  as  its  fellows  of  the  same  kind  of  fruit. 
Three  chestnuts  Avent  invariably  to  a pile,  seven  Avalnuts  to 
another,  and  so  on,  the  nuts  increasing  in  number  as  they 
decrea.sed  in  size.  Each  pile  Avas  for  sale  for  half  a farthing. 
There  Avas  something  almost  pathetic  in  the  thought  of  the 
anxious  labor  that  had  so  carefully  arranged  beforehand  these 
little  heaps,  destined  for  so  long  to  court  a customer  in  A'ain. 

Intersecting  the  city  are  several  dry  beds  of  streams.  In 
the  season  of  the  spring  rains  there  is  actually  some  Avater  in 
them,  but  during  the  larger  part  of  the  year  the  greater  num- 
ber are  quite  empty.  They  are  spanned,  hoAvever,  Avherever  a 
street  crosses  them,  by  stone  bridges;  and  these  bridges  are  the 
oiiIa’  ones  in  the  land.  This  seems  incon^’ruous  at  first ; for  in 
Korea  a river  Avliich  is  a riAmr  is  neA'er  honored  or  disgraced, 
according  to  Avhich  Avay  you  take  it,  by  a bridge  of  any  kind. 
The  paradox  is  defensible,  hoAvever,  for  two  reasons : the 
greater  Avealth  and  dignity  of  the  capital  is  one  cause ; and  the 
fact  that  a stream,  Avhich  is  at  times  a stream  and  at  times 
not,  is  more  troublesome  than  something  Avhich  is  either  one 
thing  or  the  other,  is  another  reason  for  the  apparent  incon- 
gruity of  custom.  A ford  is  even  more  primitive  than  a ferry, 
and  a long  bridge  is,  after  all,  more  expensiA’e  than  a small 
one.  As  for  the  matter  of  expense,  these  bridges  must  cost 
A'ery  little ; for,  once  built,  they  are  left  to  their  oavu  unaided 
powers  to  continue.  They  are  so  solid,  from  the  lai-ge  stone 
blocks  of  AA'hich  they  are  made,  that  they  contriA’e  not  to 


SOUL  BY  DAY. 


223 


tumble  tlirougli  long  after  tliey  should  by  rights  have  done 
so.  Time  has  opened  and  then  widened  the  seams  between 
the  blocks,  and  made  unevennesses  in  places  where  a block 
lias  settled  below  its  neighbors  ; but  the  human  tide  surges 
across  tlie  stones  as  safely  as  of  old. 

To  the  sights  of  a city  belong,  in  one  sense  of  the  word,  its 
sounds.  I was  one  day  picking  my  way  between  the  ponds 
and  mud-holes  of  one  of  the  thoroughfares  of  Soul.  In  spite  of 
the  difficulty  in  doing  so,  and  the  consequent  want  of  speed,  the 
street  Avas  quite  full,  as  usual,  nor  Avas  it  particularly  quiet. 
The  noise  of  the  passing  aaus  entirely  droAvned,  hoAvever,  on 
turning  a certain  corner,  by  the  hubbub  that  issued  from  a 
house  across  the  Avay.  The  house  Avas,  in  appearance,  like 
all  other  houses,  and  shoAved  to  the  street  only  a blank  Avail 
Avith  the  usual  loopholes  for  AvindoAvs.  But  from  Avitliin  came 
forth  a A’ery  pandemonium  of  sound.  The  noise  resembled  the 
humming  of  a sAvarm  of  gigantic  bees,  and  the  place  suggested 
a mammoth  liiA’e.  “ What  on  earth,”  said  I to  m3"  attendant 
Kim,  “ can  that  Babel  be ! ” But  it  turned  out  to  be  ouIa"  a 
Korean  school. 

The  fanc}"  took  me  to  pla}"  examiner.  So  I entered,  fol- 
loAved  b}"  the  good  Kim,  b}^  the  main  gateAva^-  at  one  side  of 
the  house,  into  the  courtyard,  as  much  as  possible  as  if  it  Avere 
a matter  of  OA-eiy-da}"  occurrence.  But  I Avas  not  suffered  to 
enter  thus  quietl3^  alone.  An  eager  croAvd  pushed  after  me, 
not  to  see  tiie  school,  but  to  gaze  on  me.  As  priA^acA"  is  not  a 
Korean  demand,  intrusion  is  not  much  of  a Korean  rudeness. 
This  reflection,  liOAA"e\"er,  did  not  reconcile  me  to  the  situation, 
as  I Avislied  m3^  uninvited  Ausit  to  disturb  the  occupants  as  little 
as  might  be.  Tlie  sclioolmaster  did  not  care.  He  Avas  as  in- 
different to  their  coming  as  he  Avas  courteous  in  receiving  me. 
But  I objected,  because  Avitli  the  least  right  to  do  so.  I ordered 
them  out,  and  Avith  the  help  of  Kim  and  the  OAAmers  pushed 


224 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  LIORXIXG  CALH. 


them  all  into  the  street  and  bolted  the  door.  Then  I sat  me 
down  on  the  threshold  of  learning,  — that  is,  upon  the  broad 
sill  that  surrounds  all  Korean  houses.  I did  not  enter  the 
seat  of  Avisdom,  2)artly  because  I AAais  too  lazy  to  remove  tlie 
grosser  covering  of  my  understanding  (my  shoes),  and  partly 
because  the  place  Avas  quite  full.  It  Avas  an  aA^erage-sized 
Korean  room,  some  eight  feet  by  fourteen ; and  ranged 
around  it,  facing  the  centre,  sat  eight  pupils  and  tlie  teacher. 
They  Avere  of  all  ages,  doAvn  to  nearly  nought,  and  the  most 
serious-looking  lot  of  schoolboys  imaginable,  or  rather  unim- 
aginable. Tliey  Avere,  tlie  entire  company,  as  sedate,  every 
AA'liit,  as  the  teacher.  They  all  sat  cross-legged,  each  AAuth  a 
book  spread  out  before  him  on  the  mats.  These  books  Avere 
of  A’arious  kinds,  from  “The  Thousand  Character  Classic”  (the 
Korean  as  it  is  the  Chinese  primer),  on  through  the  true  classics 
and  numerous  histories,  to  the  “Yh  King,”  — a manual  of  mystic 
philosophy,  Avhich  dates  from  remote  antiquity.  My  unexpected 
appearance  made  them  all  pause  ; but,  the  momentary  excite- 
ment over,  they  returned  Avith  renewed  assiduity  to  their  books, 
and  bej2:an  again  their  hummino’,  like  a sAvarin  of  bees  once 
more  on  the  Aving.  It  is  alloAvable  to  read  aloud ; or  rather  any 
other  method  is  unheard  of.  Each  student  hums  to  himself, 
his  voice,  uoav  rising,  noAv  falling,  in  tAvo  different  tones,  so  as  to 
impart  a sort  of  chanting  character  to  the  occupation.  The 
sound  affords  them  a continuous  sense-gratification,  in  addition 
to  the  mental  enjoyment  they  derive  from  the  perusal  of  the 
book;  and  Avhat  they  begin  at  school,  they  practise  through  life. 
It  is  the  keeping  eA^er  of  the  crutches  to  learning.  Dear  old 
grandams,  in  out-of-the-Avay  country  districts,  afford  an  excel- 
lent parallel.  We  all,  indeed,  begin  in  the  same  Avay;  and  some 
people,  after  they  are  groAvn  up,  still  continue  to  pronounce  to 
themselves  as  they  read,  though  they  have  learned  to  be  mute 
to  the  bystander. 


SOUL  BY  DAY. 


225 


This  liimi  may  be  said  to  pervaide  the  far-East.  It  is  one  of 
the  cliaracteristic  sounds  of  any  Japanese  inn.  In  fact,  no  inn 
would  seem  truly  complete  without  it.  There  are  always  sure 
to  be  staying-  in  the  house  one  or  more  persons  who  are  given 
to  reading.  These  persevering  students  lie  flat  on  their  stom- 
achs or  squat  on  their  feet  on  the  mats,  and  hum  all  day  long. 
An  irritated  listener  is  inclined  to  believe  that  the  word  ex- 
presses also  the  substance  of  what  they  read.  In  Korea  the 
custom  is  largely  outgrown  with  years  ; and  then,  also,  read- 
ing there  is  less  generall}^  an  accomplishment  throughout  the 
community. 

Though  Japan  is  b}"  no  means  a land  of  sounds,  Korea  is 
less  so.  Even  the  pipe  of  the  “ amma  ” * there  is  unheard. 

1 The  Ja))anese  “ainina”  is  au  itinerant  massage-man,  always  hlind,  who  walks  the 
streets  in  search  of  customers,  and  gives  notice  of  his  approach  by  a certain  set  of  notes, 
never  varied,  upon  a sliort  metal  jiipe.  The  sonnd  is  perliaps  the  most  characteristic  of 
the  night  noises  of  Japan. 


13 


226 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

SOUL  BY  NIGHT. 

IT  is  midnight  in  Soul, — not  the  midnight  of  Paris,  n itli  its 
glare  of  street  lamps,  and  its  floods  of  light  from  cafe  win- 
dows, but  the  silent  starlight  of  a great  walled  city  of  the  far- 
East  fallen  asleep.  On  earth  there  is  neither  light  nor  stir  nor 
sound.  Even  that  distant  murmur  of  most  great  cities  in  the 
dead  of  night  — the  throb  of  its  mighty  heart  — here  has 
stopped.  Man  and  his  doings  have  seemingly  passed  away, 
and  I am  keeping  vigil  in  my  room  alone. 

Of  a sudden,  across  the  deathlike  stillness  comes  the  boom 
of  the  great  bell.  It  cannot  startle  anything  so  dead ; it  only 
intensifles  a silence  it  is  powerless  to  dispel.  There  is  some- 
thing weird  in  it,  as  it  finds  me  the  only  one  to  hearken  to 
its  sound.  It  marks,  I know,  the  middle  of  the  night ; and 
then  it  is  lost  again  in  the  universal  hush.  At  intervals,  as  the 
liours  come  round,  I can  hear  for  a moment  the  tinkle  of  the 
watchman’s  bell,  and  the  clank  of  his  chains  as  he  paces  his 
beat  within  the  courtyards;  and  then  all  is  once  more  quiet, 
and  the  city  seems  its  own  vast  tomb. 

The  great  shadow  we  men  call  night,  as  it  sweeps  slowly 
but  irresistibly  around  our  globe,  veiling  the  face  of  all  things, 
must  have  been  one  of  the  first  phenomena  to  teach  man  the 
narrow  limit  of  his  own  powers.  How  awed  he  was,  as  dark- 
ness crept  over  him,  how  lost  he  felt  in  the  long  blackness  of 


SOUL  BY  XIGIIT. 


221 


nig-lit,  we  know  from  the  joy  with  wliich,  in  the  poems  of  the 
remote  past,  the  return  of  tlie  dawn  is  welcomed.  Even  after 
lie  had  learned  to  predict  the  morrow,  he  was  yet  powerless 
to  dispel  the  night.  For  ages  he  bowed  before  Nature;  he 
acquiesced  in  his  fate.  It  took  him  centuries  before  he  learned 
to  conquer  it.  The  long  night  of  the  year  may  have  taught 
him  a way  to  free  himself  from  the  fetters  of  the  night  of  the 
day ; for  it  was,  in  all  probability,  a striving  after  warmth 
that  ffave  him  the  clue  to  the  means  of  making  light.  From 
that  moment  he  was  emancipated.  He  had  learned  to  manu- 
hicture  time ; and  havino;-  once  discovered  this  means  of  arti- 
ticially  prolonging  his  life, — for  it  is  not  the  number  of  hours 
Ave  exist,  but  the  sensations  Ave  croAvd  into  them,  that  measure 
it, — he  kept  a firm  hold  on  his  elixir.  AYe  have  since  found 
many  other  such  elixirs  of  life,  — from  our  minds,  not  from 
matter,  — such  as  poor  Ponce  de  Leon  sought  for  in  A'ain  ; and 
threescore  years  and  ten  is  a much  longer  time  noAv  than  it 
Avas  four  thousand  years  ago.  The  far-East  sips,  if  it  does 
not  drain,  the  potion ; and  the  streets  of  Tokio  or  Canton  in 
the  early  evening  are,  in  their  Avay,  as  brilliant  as  those  of 
Paris  or  London  become  nine  hours  later.  But  Avith  Soul  it 
is  different.  While  Tokio  is  spangled  Avith  lights  and  lanterns, 
Soul  lies  dark  and  silent  as  the  tomb.  It  is  not  that  her  j^eo- 
ple  have  failed  to  discover,  but  that  they  are  not  permitted 
to  enjoy.  The  official  oligarchy  wills  it  so. 

That  the  Koreans  do  not  borrow  of  the  night  as  other 
nations  have  learned  to  do,  — that,  the  gloaming  gone,  Pompeii 
in  its  ghastly  moonlight  is  not  more  desolate  than  is  Soul,  — is 
due  to  a laAv  as  singular  in  its  existence  as  it  is  strikiim  in  its 
effects.  It  bears  a certain  outAvard  resemblance  to  the  ancient 
curfcAv  of  England.  At  nightfall  the  massive  Avooden  doors 
of  the  city  gates,  clad  in  their  iron  armor,  are  swung  to ; and 
from  that  time  till  daAAUi  no  one  — man,  Avoman,  or  child  — is 


228 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOEXIXG  CALM. 


allowed  to  pass  the  limit  of  liis  own  threshold.  The  whole 
little  world  is  forced  to  remain,  each  family  separately,  at  home. 
The  streets  are  deserted ; any  one  found  upon  them  is  at  once 
taken  to  the  police  station  and  flogged.  From  the  restrictions 
of  this  law  hut  two  classes  are  exempted,  — blind  men  and 
officials ; and  tlie  latter  made  the  law. 

It  was  often  my  lot  to  have  to  cross  the  city  late  at  night, 
and  thus  to  Avitness  in  all  its  peculiarity  the  results  of  so  strange 
a custom.  From  preference  I usuall}*  Avalked ; and  there  accom- 
panied me  in  these  journeyings  only  a single  attendant  to  carry 
tlie  lantern,  Avithout  aa  Inch  in  Korea  no  Avanderer  goes  abroad 
after  dark. 

No  sooner  had  I stepped  over  my  oavu  threshold  than  I 
Avas  plunged  at  once  into  veritable  outer  darkness.  The  man 
in  front  Avith  his  lantern  made  me  think  of  a ship  at  sea.  There 
Avas  a certain  reason  for  the  fancy ; for  the  lantern,  though  at 
first  necessary  to  my  oavu  sure  footing,  Avas  in  fact  principally 
carried  as  a sign  to  others.  Before  me  lay  the  ink}’  blackness 
of  the  street.  I could  not  see  it ; I kneAV  it  only  by  the  A'oid. 
On  either  hand  the  jj-aunt  forms  of  the  Ioav  houses  loomed  for 
a moment  as  I approached  them,  like  silhouettes  against  the 
less  black  skA’,  and  then  sank  again  and  disappeared  once  more 
in  the  indistinguishable  gloom,  — a city  buried  not  in  lava  and 
aslies,  but  as  completely  in  silence  and  night.  EA’en  my  oaa'u 
footfall  died  aAvay  on  the  earth  of  the  patlnvay,  and  found  no 
place  to  echo  in  the  irregularities  of  the  Ioav  houses.  Only 
noAv  and  then  a dull  rhythmical  thud  struck  upon  ni}’  ear.  It 
sounded  curiously  like  the  croaking  of  frogs  on  some  summer’s 
eA’e,  and  it  came  apparently  only  from  out  the  darkness  and 
the  night;  as  Ave  adA’anced,  it  grcAv  louder  and  louder,  till  at  last 
Ave  passed  it  by,  off  to  one  side.  It  seemed  unearthly.  I called 
to  the  lantern-bearer,  bade  him  hearken,  and  asked  him  Avhat  it 
Avas.  He  listened,  and  then  ansAvered  me  that  the  noise  came 


sGul  by  xight. 


229 


from  tlie  pounding  of  clothes  in  the  Korean  inetliod  of  wasliing. 
Even  after  this  shockingly  prosaic  explanation  there  still  lin- 
o-ered  a weirdness  in  it,  carried  on  thus  at  dead  of  night  by 
unseen  hands.  Half  groping  my  Avay  along, — for  the  light 
from  the  lantern  only  lit  up  a few  feet  around,  — I next  stum- 
bled over  a dog,  that  sprang  away  growling  into  the  shelter 
of  a neighboring  gateway. 

Fixed  beacons  there  were  none,  — no  street  lamps,  — noth- 
ino-  to  o-uide  the  stran^-ef  or  lielij  the  native.  One  had  to  know 

o o OX 

well  his  city,  before  he  ventured  out  at  night.  The  few  wan- 
derers abroad  carried  each  his  own  lantern,  or  had  it  carried 
before  him,  according  to  his  rank;  and  these  lanterns  varied 
in  size  and  shape  in  keeping  with  the  station  of  the  wanderer. 
Now  they  were  solidly  built  frameworks,  a foot  and  a half 
square,  now  delicate  octagonal  paper  nothings  hung  upon  a 
short  stick  and  daintily  held  after  the  manner  of  a very  short 
fishing-rod;  but  all  were  of  the  same  fundamental  description, 
— a tallow  candle  within  a paper  frame.  Unfortunately  they 
lack  the  brilliant  colors  which  make  an  evening  stroll  in  Tokio 
so  beautiful.  They  are  all  of  the  same  yellowish  white,  — the 
color  of  the  plain,  every-day  paper  through  which  they  shine. 
The  motion  of  the  arm,  as  the  bearers  Avalk,  causes  them  to 
dance  about  like  so  many  fireflies.  When  you  add  to  this 
that  the  men  are  all  clad  in  loose-floAving  Avhite  robes,  reveal- 
ing them  as  they  approach  in  the  orthodox  ghostly  sheen,  they 
each  resemble,  armed  Avith  the  lantern,  something  between 
Diogenes  and  his  own  apparition.  Evidently  I Avas  not  Avhat 
they  Avere  in  search  of,  hoAveA’er ; for  on  my  looming  up  before 
them,  they  started  back  Avitli  a half-uttered  cry,  as  if  our  parts 
had  been  mutually  interchanged.  I am  not  sure  but  that  they 
had  the  right  of  the  superstition,  if  it  comes  to  that.  I do 
not  knoAv  that  revenants  have  any  particular  garb  or  color 
ascribed  to  them  in  the  Korean  spiritual  Avorld.  All  the  tales 


230 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


on  tlie  subject  I ever  lieard,  imply  that  they  return  in  the 
form  they  wore  here  below.  But  assuredly  a dark  figure, 
above  their  average  height,  without  a lantern  or  any  such 
warning  of  his  appoach,  is  more  calculated  to  play  the  part 
than  a sort  of  professional  somnambulist  in  his  nightdress, 
as  we  conceive  the  idea. 

About  half-way  home  one  night,  in  mid-ocean  of  darkness, 
ni}"  man  with  the  lantern  was  suddenly  stopped.  I happened 
to  be  a little  ahead  of  him  at  the  time.  My  impatience  to  be 
at  home  had  caused  me  to  ignore  the  lantern,  — an  obligatory 
but  useless  adjunct  to  the  party.  Still,  it  was  more  fitting  to 
travel  in  company ; so  I turned  to  see  how  far  behind  he 
was,  Avhen,  to  my  surprise,  I saw  that  the  man  had  met  some 
one  — friend  or  enemy  — with  whom  he  was  mysteriously  talk- 
ing. The  lanterns  lit  up  so  little  of  the  men  that  the  face 
of  the  stranger  could  not  be  seen,  but  from  his  actions  mat- 
ters seemed  amicable  enough.  I Avaited ; in  a feAv  moments 
the  collorpiy  came  to  an  end,  and,  the  lantern-bearer  catching 
up  Avith  me,  I asked  him  Avhat  it  all  meant.  It  seemed  he 
had  been  stopped  by  the  night  patrol  and  asked  his  busi- 
ness. The  account  he  Avas  able  to  give  of  himself,  backed 
by  my  appearance  in  the  distance,  had  sa\'ed  him,  and  the 
officer  of  the  law  had  alloAved  him  to  pass. 

This  Avas  the  extent  of  my  acquaintance  Avith  the  patrol. 
From  the  cursory  Avay  in  Avhich  I thus  saAV  him,  I never 
learned  to  distinguish  a patrol  from  any  one  else.  Occasion- 
ally,  as  Ave  passed  some  figure,  my  servant  Avould  turn  to 
me  and  murmur,  “There,  that  Avas  one!”  But  he  had  already 
been  SAvallowed  up  by  the  gloom.  Still,  I Avould  not  seem 
to  suggest  that  a Korean  could  not  tell  a patrol  as  far  aAvay 
as  he  could  see  anything;  for  such  a suggestion  Avould  be 
a libel  upon  the  efficiency  of  the  Korean  police  S3’Stem.  It 
is  a fundamental  tenet  in  far-Eastern  matters  of  suiweillance 


SOUL  BY  UIGHT. 


231 


that  all  possible  opportunity  to  escape  shall  be  offered  the 
offender.  They  believe  in  making  the  deterrent  effect  precede 
as  well  as  follow  the  commission  of  the  crime.  Not  to  catch 
the  criminal  is  the  first  object;  to  punish  him  mercilessly 
if  they  fail,  the  second. 

Under  this  nocturnal  anti-peripatetic  law,  midnight  trav- 
ersing of  the  town,  for  such  as  h.ave  a right  to  indulge  in  it, 
is  rendered  peculiarly  secure.  I suppose  there  is  no  great 
city  in  the  world  so  safe  as  Soul.  Instead  of  your  servant 
being  a protection  to  you,  it  is  you  who  protect  him.  In  your 
company  he  is  safe  ; without  you  he  is  liable  to  arrest  and 
beating.  This  is  in  some  sort  the  object  of  the  law.  It  is 
thought  expedient  that  all  the  common  people  shall  remain 
within  doors  after  dark ; by  this  means  thieving  will  be  ren- 
dered impossible.  If  everybody  is  kept  at  home,  the  evilly 
disposed  will,  of  necessity,  be  included.  The  plan  works  ad- 
mirably in  both  directions : on  the  one  hand,  there  are  no 
thieves  abroad ; and  on  the  other,  all  the  houses  are  guarded. 

The  immunity  belonging  to  officials  descends  to  those  exe- 
cuting their  commands.  You  may,  supposing  you  are  an 
official,  send  your  servant  on  any  errands  you  see  fit.  In 
that  case  the  messenger  arms  himself  with  a writing,  describ- 
ing what  he  is  about,  which  he  shows  to  any  patrol  who  stops 
him,  and  is  then  suffered  to  proceed.  The  patrols  summarily 
arrest  any  one  who  cannot  show  cause,  either  from  position 
or  permit,  why  he  should  be  at  large,  and  take  him  to  the 
police  station,  where  he  is  at  once  flogged.  Five  blows  with 
a long  flat  pole  are  the  penalty,  crescendo.  To  avoid  the 
annoyance  of  being  arrested,  under-officials,  who  run  the  dan- 
ger of  not  being  recognized  at  once,  wear  a species  of  badge 
to  show  on  occasion. 

There  is  another  class  in  the  community  who  are  permitted 
freely  to  roam  at  night,  — blind  men.  A thoughtful  kindness 


232 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


lias  given  tliein  an  immunity  they  could  never  abuse.  Unable 
to  travel  fast,  they  can  easily  be  watched  ; and  so  blind  men’s 
holiday  in  Korea  is  prolonged  from  the  twilight  on  till  dawn. 
But  their  journeys  are  not  confined  to  travel  at  night.  They 
frequent  the  streets  at  all  hours ; and  the  manner  in  which  they 
are  both  able  and  dare  to  cross  the  city  is  something  little  short 
of  marvellous,  for  they  go  entirely  alone.  No  small  boy  or 
faithful  friend  shelters  them  from  the  crowd,  or  guides  them 
into  passages  for  the  moment  clear.  Armed  only  with  a long 
staff,  they  venture  alone  into  the  thick  of  the  city’s  throng. 
They  walk  boldly  forward,  and  somehow  escape  unlnirt;  and 
so  erect  is  their  bearing  and  straight  their  course,  that  at  first 
you  would  never  suppose  that  to  them  it  was  always  night. 
Of  course,  carriages,  fortunate]}',  are  Avanting ; there  is  noth- 
ing worse  than  a bull  to  collide  Avith.  Also  the  moderate 
pace  of  the  human  travel  around  them  makes  matters  less 
dangerous.  But  alloAving  for  all  favoring  conditions,  the  deed 
is  A'ery  daring,  and  the  confidence,  begotten  of  consideration, 
sublime. 

There  is  one  more  excuse  for  being  out  after  dark,  — a 
})hysician’s  prescription.  A paper  from  a doctor  to  procure 
medicine  from  an  apothecary’s  shop  is  sufficient  Avarrant  for 
one  of  the  peo})le  to  be  abroad  the  necessary  time  to  liave  it 
filled.  If  the  man,  hoAvever,  is  gone  too  long,  or  is  found  at 
a distance  from  Avhere  he  ought  to  be,  he  is  held  guilty  of 
breaking  the  laAv,  and  is  punished  accordingly. 

Human  nature  is  startlingly  the  same  the  Avorld  over.  Nu- 
merous stratagems  are  practised  to  evade  the  laAv  and  yet  avoid 
beiuo:  caimht.  The  first  device  is  the  counterfeitiim  of  the 
badges  Avorn  by  officials.  As  the  badges  are  to  be  scrutinized 
only  by  the  light  of  a feeble  lantern,  the  counterfeiting  of 
them  is  much  facilitated.  Tlie  difficulty  here  is  not  Avith 
the  badge,  but  Avith  the  manners  of  the  man.  Properly  to 


SOUL  BY  NIGHT. 


233 


personify  an  official  is  to  one  of  the  populace  no  easy  task. 
Would-be  magistrates  have  been  detected  by  the  way  they 
held  their  respirators  or  pocketed  their  fans. 

iVnother  ruse  is  to  imitate  a physician’s  prescription.  To 
copy  the  seal,  the  actual  forgery,  is  comparatively  easy  ; but 
to  write  the  body  of  the  text  so  as  not  to  excite  suspicion  is 
not  so  simple  as  it  appears.  It  is  a little  bit  of  painting,  and 
tlie  touch  of  a practised  hand  is  to  a practised  eye  discernible 
at  once. 

A third  plan  much  in  vogue,  because  requiring  less  ])repara- 
tion  and  depending  for  its  success  upon  the  skill  of  the  moment, 
is  to  personify  a blind  man.  All  that  the  prodigal  need  provide 
himself  with  is  a long  staff.  He  then  keeps  his  eyes  about  him, 
and  whenever  he  sees  any  one  approaching,  he  assumes  the 
blind  man’s  gait  and  begins  feeling  round  with  a stick.  But 
the  patrol  is  a match  for  the  prodigal.  The  policeman  waits 
until  he  has  got  by,  and  then  suddenly  hails  him.  The  pseudo- 
blind man,  forgetful  of  his  assumed  infirmity,  instinctively  turns 
his  head,  thus  betraying  his  habit,  and  is  grappled  and  hurried 
off  to  receive  the  reward  of  failure. 

On  certain  occasions,  few  in  number,  the  enforcement  of  the 
law  is  suspended,  and  everybody  is  at  liberty  to  make  of  two 
days  one.  The  }’ear  begins,  propitiously  enough,  Avith  one  of 
these.  New  Year’s  day  is,  of  all  Korean  festivals,  the  most 
important,  and  New  Year’s  eA’e  is  given  over  to  the  enjoyment 
of  the  populace. 

All  this  is  dark,  — the  negative  side  of  the  picture,  the  void 
resulting  from  a curfeAv.  Its  positive  side  is  represented  Ija* 
a few  curs,  the  sole  denizens  of  the  great  deserted.  Through 
the  long  Avatclies  of  the  night,  the  city  is  their  property  alone. 
Not  only  do  dogs  constitute  the  only  sign  of  life  in  the 
streets,  but  iu  a peculiar  manner  the  liberty  Avhicli  is  denied  to 
man  is  given  them.  The  details  of  their  life  are  curious,  and 


234 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


sometimes  as  ingenious  as  diverting,  as  is  instanced  by  the 
Korean  Intcli-key. 

The  latcli-key  I mean  does  not  belong  to  man.  To  a 
Korean  tliere  is  no  sucli  tiling  as  entering  his  own  abode  un- 
known to  others.  Either  he  comes  home  attended  by  a retinue 
of  servants,  who  clamor  vociferously  without  till  other  servants 
from  within  draw  back  the  long  wooden  bolt  that  makes  of  the 
double  door  a single  solid  ]iiece ; or  else,  being  one  of  the  com- 
mon people,  he  needs  no  admittance,  because,  from  nightfall 
till  dawn,  the  curfew  lav/  forbids  him  to  roam  abroad.  The 
latch-key  I speak  of  is  a perquisite  of  the  dog. 

At  the  bottom  of  one  of  the  two  folds  of  every  Korean  outer 
gate  — a gate  that  leads  from  the  street  into  the  outer  court- 
yard, and  whicli  is  invariably  closed  and  bolted  at  night  — 
there  is  a small  rectangular  hole.  It  is  perhaps  eight  inches 
by  six  in  size,  — an  opening  cut  out  of  one  of  the  panels.  Too 
small  to  afford  an  entrance  to  marauding  Immanit^q  it  just  com- 
foi’tably  tits  the  body  of  a dog.  It  is  there  to  admit  at  his 
own  pleasure  the  vagrant  family  cur.  It  is  a sort  of  pass-key, 
suited  to  canine  intelligence.  Of  the  whole  household,  he  is 
the  only  member  permitted  the  choice  of  his  own  hours.  It 
is  almost  unnecessary  to  add  that  the  word  “dog”  is  not  an 
epithet  of  contempt  in  Korean.  “Sheep”  is  their  vituperative 
simile. 

The  social  position  of  the  dog  in  the  far-East  is  quite  differ- 
ent from  Avhat  it  is  Avith  us.  IVIore  liberty  and  less  affection  is 
given  him  there.  He  is  a hanger-on  of  civilization  rather  than 
a part  of  it.  Nobody  pays  him  the  slightest  attention,  and  in 
consequence  he  learns  to  look  after  himself  The  hole  in  the 
door  is  tlie  best  comment  on  the  animal.  He  fully  bears  out  in 
his  behavior  the  suggestion  of  prodigal  sonship  Avhich  insepara- 
bly connects  itself  Avith  the  idea  of  a latch-key.  He  is  a born 
Bohemian  of  a dog.  He  is  foreA’er  proAvling  about  the  streets, 


SOUL  BY  NIGHT. 


235 


or  in  his  lazier  moments  gossiping  with  familiar  spirits  before 
his  own  door.  These  are  his  more  agreeable  qualities ; other- 
wise he  is  a clisOTace  to  his  amiable  tribe.  He  is  vicious  and 

O 

cowardly  ; in  spite  of  his  centuries  of  association  with  man, 
he  is  still  wellnio;'h  wild.  Nenrlect  has  brouo’ht  him  to  his 
present  condition.  He  is  suffered  for  his  usefulness  alone ; 
for  he  is  to  a certain  extent  a scavenger,  — a supplementary 
associate  in  that  occupation  to  the  kite,  upon  whom  the  duty 
principally  falls. 

In  appearance  he  resembles  the  collie.  Indeed,  it  would  be 
interesting  to  ascertain  whether  he  is  not,  in  truth,  a descend- 
ant of  a prehistoric  sheep-dog ; for  although  sheep  were  not 
brought  with  tliem  by  the  Koreans  Avhen  they  moved  to  their 
present  home,  it  is  altogether  probable  that  before  this  migra- 
tion they  were  a pastoral  people.  This  would  also,  in  some 
manner,  account  for  the  transferrence  of  the  term  of  abuse  from 
the  clever  collie,  who  was  as  his  master’s  right  hand,  to  the 
stupid  sheep,  whose  behavior  naturally  excited  both  annoyance 
and  contempt. 

With  the  natives  the  animal  lives  on  terms  of  mutual  indif- 
ference, but  in  the  strange-looking  foreigner  he  recognizes  at 
once  an  enemy,  of  whom  he  is  mortally  afraid.  No  sooner 
does  he  catch  sight  of  the  uncouth  figure  turning  the  corner 
of  a street  than  he  scampers,  barking,  to  the  protecting  security 
of  the  gatewa}'.  The  speed  witli  which  he  can  disappear 
through  the  hole,  if  the  gate  happens  to  be  shut,  turn  com- 
pletely round,  and  reappear  quivering  with  excitement  behind 
it,  is  something  remarkable.  Occasionally  he  is  caught  un- 
awares. Forgetful  of  the  existence  of  such  things  as  foreign 
apparitions,  and  pursuant  to  some  momentary  whim,  he  starts 
on  the  run  in  what  happens  to  be  your  direction,  and  then 
suddenly  catching  sight  of  you,  tries  to  turn  instantly  to  re- 
treat, completes  several  somersaults  in  his  attempt  to  stoj), 


236 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOEXIXG  CALM. 


and  finally  succeeding  vanishes  as  fast  as  he  came,  never  forget- 
ting, in  the  most  awkward  moments  of  his  startling  experience, 
to  bark  continuously. 

So  much  for  the  use  of  the  hole.  It  also  does  duty  as  a 
picture.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  framing  of  a portrait,  — that  of  the 
dogs  face  as  he  sits  within  and  scans  the  passers-by  through 
the  opening. 

But  of  all  hours,  perhaps,  the  time  to  know  the  dog  is  at 
night,  Avhen  he  has  the  city  to  himself.  Like  a gnome,  he 
steals  along  through  the  darkness  of  the  unilluminated  streets. 
He  is  the  spirit  of  tlie  night,  abroad  to  live  his  life.  In  the 
far-East  this  spirit  is  the  dog,  as  with  us  it  is  the  cat.  A 
phantom,  a half-smothered  growl,  a hasty  scuffle,  and  then  two 
glaring  eyeballs,  like  coals  of  fire,  seen  throngh  the  opening  of 
the  door,  — and  you  have  met  and  still  behold  a dog. 

In  one  of  the  darkest  corners  of  one  of  the  crookedest 
streets  I came  upon  what  looked  like  a gibbet.  It  was  per- 
haps ten  feet  high,  and  its  arm  stretched  out  over  the  street  and 
swayed  in  the  night  breeze  like  a thing  uneasy  in  mind. 
From  this  arm  there  hung  — not  a man  indeed,  but  what 
looked  quite  as  ghastly  — the  remains  of  a lantern  which 
had  gone  out.  It  had  once  been  lighted,  bnt  the  wind  had 
blown  it  out ; and  the  same  wind  that  had  extingnished  it 
now  caused  it  to  sway  from  side  to  side  in  piteous  creak- 
ings,  as  if,  not  content  with  taking  the  life,  it  mnst  further 
torment  the  disembodied  spirit.  All  was  jiitch-dark  about 
it,  the  house  below  being  apparently  as  black  as  the  rest ; 
and  yet  it  was  meant  for  the  alluring  sign  of  a sake  shop, 
a sort  of  Korean  bar-room.  Even  in  other  more  favorable 
specimens,  where  the  light  still  showed  a sickly  glimmer,  there 
was  little  to  suggest  jollity.  Bather  did  it  seem  a beacon 
to  warn  one  off  the  rocks.  But  then  a Korean  is  used  to 
gloom. 


SOUL  BY  NIGHT. 


237 


Finally  I reached  my  own  gateway.  The  lantern-bearer 
called  out  to  rouse  the  dozing  servants  within ; and  as  that 
failed,  began  to  pound  violently  upon  the  heavy  wooden  door. 
At  last  some  one  awoke,  started  to  his  feet,  and  hurried  across 
the  courtyard.  The  wooden  bolt  was  drawn  back  with  a 
sharp  click,  and  the  door  swung  open.  My  voyage  in  the 
dark  was  ended. 


238 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A KOREAN  BANQUET. 

My  comjDoimd  fronted  on  a street  called  “ The  Street  of 
Ashes.”  This  street  ran  north  and  south,  and  stretched 
nearly  from  one  end  of  the  city  to  the  otlier,  a distance  of  sev- 
eral miles.  It  miglit  liave  been  quite  imposing-  had  it  been 
straight.  Fortunately  for  its  pictiiresqueness,  it  was  so  only 
in  general  intention,  and  in  practice  wandered  here  to  the 
right  hand  and  tliere  to  the  left,  in  fickleness  of  purpose,  as 
it  sauntered  across  the  town.  Its  width,  also,  was  variable. 
Now  it  contracted  to  a mere  lane,  and  then  again  it  widened 
into  something  very  like  a square.  It  accommodated  itself 
with  singular  complacency  to  the  wants  of  the  houses  between 
which  it  lay,  — here  shrinking  into  a bare  existence  before 
some  grasping  wall ; anon,  left  to  itself,  expanding  with  appar- 
entl}^  unlimited  capability.  Like  its  peers,  it  furnished  room, 
in  its  wider  portions,  for  numerous  booths  of  time-honored 
squatters.  In  fine,  it  was  a t}'pical  Korean  thoroughfare. 

It  might  at  first  seem  a question  whether  it  Avas  one  or 
many,  for  it  bore  several  names  in  the  course  of  its  journey. 
But,  from  the  analogy  of  Korean  rivers,  Ave  see  that  it  Avill  not 
do  hastily  to  conclude  that  a multiplicity  of  names  negatives 
a singleness  in  identity.  On  the  south  it  started  imposingly 
enough  from  before  a royal  mausoleum,  but  rather  uselessly, 
as  no  one  Avas  permitted  to  enter  this  almost  sacred  enclosure. 


A KOEEAN  BAI^QUET. 


239 


So,  for  purposes  of  travel,  the  street  had  been  suffered  to  extend 
in  a humble  sort  of  way  round  the  outlying  wall  back  to 
wdiere  it  could  connect  with  a certain  cross-road.  But  on  the 
north,  some  distance  after  it  passed  my  g'ate,  it  much  dimin- 
ished in  importance,  ran  up  a ravine,  and  finally  lost  itself  in  a 
Avild  sort  of  garden  or  park.  This  park  bore  the  name  of  “ The 
Glen  of  the  Blue  Unicorn.”  It  w^as  one  of  the  little  valleys 
made  by  the  spurs  of  tlie  mountain  beyond,  and  in  shape  was 
a sharp  hollow  enclosed  by  a semi-circular  rise  at  the  upper 
end.  Though  the  soil  was  sandy,  the  dell  was  dotted  Avith  a 
sparse  groAvth  of  scraggy  pine,  and  the  summit  Avas  capped  Avith 
a Avail  Avhich  also  ran  around  the  sides  and  effectually  shut  it  off 
from  the  rest  of  the  Avorld.  The  Avail  Avas  made  of  the  earth  of 
the  place,  moistened  with  Avater,  so  as  to  render  it  adhesive,  and 
had  been  moulded  into  shape,  and  then  suffered  to  dry  into 
one  compact  mass,  till  uoav  it  looked  as  if  it  had  been  one  of 
Nature’s  oavu  defences  to  the  seclusion  of  the  A’alley.  At  the 
entrance  to  the  ravine  stood  a Avell  Avhere  the  Avomen  of  the 
neighborhood  came  to  draAv  Avater,  and  on  a rock  that  overhung 
it  Avere  carved  the  characters  of  the  name  of  the  place.  The 
street  proper  ended  just  outside  of  this  at  a gateAvay  Avhich 
gave  admittance  to  Avhat  Avas  a continuation  of  it,  — a path 
tliat  climbed  up  one  side  of  the  A'alley  till  it  stopped  before 
a couple  of  pavilions  placed  on  the  upper  semi-circular  ledge 
of  earth. 

To  one  standing  on  this  natural  amphitheatre  there  Avas  a 
hushed  sense  as  of  interstellar  stillness ; for  the  noise  of  the 
city  lost  itself  in  the  hollow  beneath,  and  no  sound  of  neigh- 
boring man  found  its  Avay  in  upon  the  quiet  of  the  sjiot.  Yet, 
through  vistas  betAveen  the  trees,  by  him  Avho  cared  to  look, 
could  be  caught  glimpses  of  the  toAvn  at  his  feet,  Avhile  the 
slopes  of  the  South  Mountain  rose,  a blue-tinged  ridge,  in 
tlie  gap  beyond. 


240 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


On  a day  in  the  earl}^  part  of  the  twelfth  moon  of  the 
Korean  year,  the  peaceful  quiet  of  the  spot  was  ruthlessly 
invaded.  The  tramping  of  palanquin  coolies,  as  they  stum- 
bled up  the  path,  broke  in  upon  a stillness  that  had  wrapped 
the  little  glen  for  many  months.  One  set  had  no  sooner 
passed  than  another  followed  in  its  footsteps.  Chair  after 
chair  thus  climbed  up  the  ravine,  till,  arrived  at  the  top,  each 
in  turn  disgorged  its  occupant  upon  the  terrace  in  front  of  the 
pavilions.  The  weather  was  so  cold  — for  it  was  the  middle 
of  winter  — that  the  official  who  got  out  hastened  to  take 
refuge  in  a sort  of  summer-house  that  stood  on  the  farther 
corner  of  the  terrace.  From  inside  this  pavilion  stole  out, 
through  the  paper  panelled  sides,  the  sounds  of  revelry  of  such 
guests  as  had  already  come.  He  pushed  open  the  door,  and 
disa|)peared  within. 

The  occasion  of  the  gathering  was  a banquet  to  the  Foreign 
Office  by  one  of  its  members.  The  officials  of  that  august  body 
had  conceived  the  happy  tliought  of  a set  of  dinners  to  be  given 
by  eacli  official  in  turn  to  the  others,  thus  cleverly  securing  at 
a single  stroke  not  one  but  many  entertainments.  This  was 
the  first  of  the  series,  and  tlie  Vale  of  the  Blue  Unicorn  had 
been  selected  as  a spot  Avorthy  the  initial  dinner.  In  spite  of 
all  its  seeming  sacredness,  it  was  for  just  such  purposes  that  the 
place  existed.  The  most  beautiful  spots  are  always  chosen  as 
places  of  entertainment,  not  that  the  feast  may  have  a proper 
setting,  but  that  the  scenery  may  be  comfortably  admired. 
Owing  to  the  season  of  the  year,  such  adoration  in  this  case 
was  impossible  from  its  inconvenience,  and  the  dinner  took  on 
more  of  the  features  of  dinners  elsewhere.  But  even  thus  de- 
prived of  its  principal  raison  d'etre,  a dinner  in  the  midst  of  a 
park  Avas  more  in  keeping  Avitli  their  notions  tlian  one  inside 
a compound.  So  the  Blue  Unicorn  had  been  ruthlessly  aAvak- 
ened  from  his  hibernating  trance.  FolloAving  the  example  of 


A KOEEAN  BAXQUET. 


241 


my  predecessors,  I walked  along  tlie  terrace,  and  entered  the 
summer-house. 

The  summer-house  was  a temple  to  poetry.  Within,  its 
walls  were  covered  witli  poems,  — tlie  work,  as  chance  liad  it, 
of  the  giver  of  this  very  feast.  Tlie  house  was  divided  into  two 
rooms.  The  first  of  these  was  being  used  as  an  antechamber 
by  the  servants,  who  fell  back  when  they  saw  me,  to  let  me 
pass.  To  drive,  away  the  cold, — for  the  paper  Avails  but  ill 
subserved  the  purpose,  — a brazier  had  been  put  in  the  centre 
of  the  inner  room.  Around  this,  in  a sort  of  Druid  circle,  Avei'e 
ranged  high-backed  chairs,  and  upon  them  Avere  seated  the 
company,  actively  engaged  in  absorbing  tobacco  and  giA’ing 
out  Avit.  They  were  thus  AAdiiling  away  the  several  half- 
liours  till  dinner  should  be  announced,  h^or  a feast  in  Korea 
is  an  all-day  affair;  and  should  the  repast  be  too  hastily  be- 
gun, there  might  be  left  at  the  end  of  it  time  upon  the  reA^el- 
lers’  hands,  Avho  Avould  thus  feel  self-cheated  of  their  due  amount 
of  pleasure.  Although  it  Avas  quite  cold,  CA'en  in  spite  of  the 
brazier,  the  Koreans  sat  in  enviable  unconcern,  for  they  Avere 
A’ery  thickly  clad.  In  this  they  are  more  rational  than  the 
Japanese,  Avith  Avhom  custom  seems  to  take  the  place  of  cos- 
tume, and  aaJio  go  about  in  AA'inter  the  very  picture  of  misery, 
clad  in  garments  in  Avhich  most  of  us  Avould  simply  freeze. 
That  they  die  of  consumption  in  other  lands  is  no  Avonder ; 
the  Avonder  is  that  they  do  not  more  commonly  die  in  their 
OAvn. 

Even  the  hour  before  dinner  eventually  is  numbered  Avith 
the  past,  and  at  last  Ave  Avere  summoned  to  the  other  pavilion. 
As  soon  as  Ave  had  entered  it,  the  officials  began  to  disrobe.  A 
Korean,  instead  of  dressing,  undresses  for  dinner.  The  custom 
is  much  to  be  commended.  He  does  so  that  he  may  eat  AA’itli 
the  greater  ease.  Perhaps  Avhen  Ave  learn  the  adAusability  of 
discussing  our  food  at  one  time  and  our  fancies  at  another,  AA^e 

16 


242 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


may  be  tempted  to  do  likewise.  In  this  case,  however,  as  the 
second  pavilion  had  not  yet  had  time  to  warm  up,  I avoided 
following  suit.  We  took  our  places  at  a large  rectangular  table, 
eight  of  ns  in  all,  and  were  first  served  with  soup  and  snl.  This 
was  the  first  course,  and  during  it  the  table  remained  in  virgin 
beauty.  It  was  covered  with  mounds  of  food  of  all  kinds.  The 
dishes  were  brazen  bowls,  hemispherical  in  shape.  These  were 
not  only  filled  with  meats,  fish,  vegetables,  and  fruits,  but  their 
contents  boldly  overtopped  the  modest  bounds  the  bowls  sug- 
gested, and  soared  in  dignified  self-reliance  for  into  the  air. 
Each  bowl  was  crammed  with  a compact  mass,  of  whatever  it 
happened  to  be,  which  then,  following  the  figure  imparted  to  it 
below,  rose  above  the  rim,  and  towered  into  a cylinder  of  food 
rounded  at  the  top.  In  one  this  mass  Avas  meat  cut  into  small 
bits  ; in  another,  sliced  fish  ; in  a third,  baked  dough ; and  so 
on.  As  no  food  in  the  far-East  is  Avhat  we  should  call  per- 
fectly dry,  the  pyramids  Avere  A’ery  solid  structures,  and  kept 
their  shape,  save  for  authorized  inroads,  till  Avhat  remained  of 
them  Avas  at  last  taken  bodily  aAvay ; and  a})parently  the  re- 
mains Avere  capable  of  continuing  erect  forever  after.  In  the 
centre  of  the  table  stood  the  chrf-cVwuvre,  to  Avhich  all  the 
other  dishes  Avere  merely  satellary  adjuncts.  It  rose  out  of  a 
boAvl  somewhat  larger  than  its  felloAvs,  and  tOAvered  consider- 
ably above  them.  It  Avas  intended  for  a very  superior  Avork  of 
art,  and  in  its  oavu  line  certainly  stood  um-iA'alled.  It  Avas  a 
noble  dome-capped  cylinder,  and  its  peculiar  merit  consisted  in 
being  party-made;  that  is,  it  Avas  composed  of  four  kinds  cf 
fruit,  each  occupying  a solid  quadrant  of  the  Avhole.  One  seg- 
ment consisted  entirely  of  oranges  ; another  of  pears  ; a third  of 
dried  persimmons;  and  the  fourth  of  chestnuts.  The  divisions 
betAveen  each  of  these  AA^ere  so  sharply  draAvn  that  it  Avould 
liaA^e  been  possible  to  haA*e  removed  three  of  them  and  still 
have  left  the  fourth  standing  as  solidly  as  before.  It  reminded 


A KOREAX  BAXQUET. 


243 


one,  tlioiig’li  with  much  greater  reason  for  being,  of  those  bar- 
barous party-colored  bouquets  much  affected  by  New  York 
florists.  In  this  case  it  had  convenience,  if  not  beauty,  to 
commend  it,  as  became  evident  when  we  had  reached  that 
point  in  the  repast  consecrated  to  attacking  it. 

At  ]u-esent,  however,  we  were  still  in  the  middle  of  the  soup. 
This  was  brought  in,  in  covered  china  bowls,  from  a neighbor- 
ing room  by  numerous  servants  — body  servants  they  were  — 
of  the  various  officials.  There  were  so  many  of  them  that  for  one 
who  did  anything,  four  or  five  others  stood  by  and  encouraged 
him  to  do  it  by  repeating  the  orders  and  freely  giving  him  their 
idea  of  how  the  thing  should  be  done.  However,  they  did  not 
succeed  in  spoiling  the  broth,  — perliaps  because  they  were  not 
cooks,  but  only  waiters.  Meanwhile  others  were  busy  serving 
out  sul  and  beer.  This  last  beverage  had  lately  been  imported, 
and  had  taken  as  completely  in  Korea  as  it  has  already  done  in 
Japan.  So  thoroughly  has  Japan  acquired  the  taste,  indeed, 
that  long  since  she  partially  tlirew  off  the  yoke  of  importation, 
and  began  to  manufacture  it  for  herself ; and  now  many  native 
breweries  lielp  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  dwellers  in  the  large 
cities,  the  Japanese  having  found  the  avowed  manufacture  of 
the  article  itself  even  more  profitable  than  the  counterfeiting 
of  the  foreign  labels,  in  which  employment  at  one  time  they 
drove  a most  lucrative  business. 

When  they  had  removed  the  bowls  of  soup,  the  attendants 
])i-oceeded  to  hand  round  in  turn  some  of  the  dishes  that  had  up 
to  this  point  cliallenged  my  unbounded  admiration  for  their  por- 
tentous height  in  tlie  centre  of  the  table.  We  were  asked  to 
destroy  these  marvels  of  culinary  construction, — no  easy  task, 
owing  to  their  consistency.  Some  were  composed  of  beef,  some 
of  pork,  some  of  fried  fish  in  thin  yellow  slices.  Most  of  them 
were  delightful  potpourris  to  a Korean ; and  even  to  foreign 
taste  they  were  a not  injudicious  medley  of  good  things.  While 


244 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


one  of  the  mounds  in  which  they  lay  packed  was  being  offered 
me,  and  just  as  I was  in  the  middle  of  an  excavation  into  its 
stubborn  interior,  I became  aware  of  a commotion  in  the  far- 
ther end  of  the  hall.  I turned  my  head  just  in  time  to  see,  from 
between  the  opening  ranks  of  the  servants,  a vision  of  beauty 
come  fluttering  into  the  room.  She  was  a young  woman,  clad 
in  the  gayest  of  colors,  and  exquisitely  clean.  In  this  combina- 
tion of  nature  and  art  she  shone  to  great  advantage,  for  neat- 
ness is  not  a distinguishing  characteristic  of  the  race.  She 
advanced  with  a pretty  bashfulness,  as  much  felt  as  assumed, 
till  all  of  a sudden  she  caimlit  si<>ht  of  me.  She  started  as  if 

o o 

she  had  seen  a ghost.  Her  coy  modesty  at  once  gave  place  to 
unfeigned  alarm,  and  she  shrank  back  as  if  for  protection  into 
the  farthest  corner  of  the  room.  Everybody  began  to  laugh, 
and  banteringly  to  call  me  tiger,  — the  Korean  simile  for  the 
horrible  ; to  her  alone  the  name  was  terribly  real.  She  would 
have  run  from  the  room  had  the  servants  suffered  her  to  pass. 
As  it  was,  she  stood  there  cowering,  not  daring  to  take  her  eyes 
off  me,  and  at  first  quite  deaf  to  all  cajoleries  from  the  rest  of 
the  company.  Perceiving,  however,  that  though  a tiger,  I was 
to  a certain  extent  tame,  she  finally  allowed  herself  to  be  coaxed 
into  taking  a seat  at  the  table,  as  far  removed  from  my  own  as 
possible,  from  which  she  shot,  from  time  to  time,  furtive  glances 
in  my  direction,  to  assure  herself  that  I was  still  quiescent.  As 
the  dinner  wore  on,  she  recovered  somewhat  of  her  natural 
vivacity  ; but  it  took  her  many  dinners’  worth  of  juxtaposition 
before  she  became  at  all  sociable  with  the  horror-inspiring 
stranger. 

The  next  one  to  make  her  appearance,  fortunately  for  my 
temporary  happiness,  showed  no  such  intense  aversion  to  a 
foreigner.  With  her,  curiosity  was  a stronger  trait  than  fear; 
and  she  had,  besides,  already  had  some  little  practice  in  the 
matter.  After  a very  proper  amount  of  maidenly  reluctance. 


A KOREAN  BANQUET. 


245 


slie  was  induced  to  sit  next  me  and  coyly  to  take  her  part  in 
the  general  jollity. 

Then  others  followed.  These  charming  creatures  were  richly 
dressed  in  the  gaudiest  colors,  — hriglit  pinks,  blues,  purples, 
greens.  The  material  was  principally  silk,  while  their  outer- 
most sacks  and  their  hats  were  trimmed  with  fur.  In  marked 
contrast  to  their  clothes,  their  hair  was  done  in  beautiful  sim- 
plicity. It  was  taken  straight  back,  and  tied  in  a braid  gath- 
ered up  behind,  which  was  pierced  by  a large  thick  pin  of  solid 
silver.  Of  this  pin  they  were  justly 
quite  proud.  It  was  six  inches  long 
and  a third  of  an  inch  in  diameter  in 
the  shank,  being  still  la?‘ger  at  the  end. 

It  shone  very  effectively  against  their 
jet-black  hair.  Their  di’ess  was  com- 
posed of  a short,  close-fitting  jacket 
above  and  long  skirts  below.  The 
effect  of  the  skirts,  combined  with  that 
of  the  head-dress,  was  such  as  to  give 
the  wearers  a much  more  European  ap- 
pearance than  is  the  case  with  Japanese 
or  even  Chinese  women.  In  one  respect, 
however,  they  differed  markedly  from 
such  specimens  of  their  sex.  Their 
waist  was  for  some  occult  reason  as- 
sumed to  be  on  a level  with  tlieir  armpits.  As  can  easily  be 
imagined,  this  played  havoc  with  their  figures ; still  there  was 
a quaint  beauty  even  about  the  ruin.  The  damsels  were 
Korean  sino'ins'-G'irls. 

Now,  the  singing-girl  is  an  institution  in  the  fiir-East.  The 
word  but  faintly  expresses  the  person.  In  Japan,  where  the 
class  attains  its  greatest  luxuriance,  they  are  called  “geisha,”  — 
a name  which  means  “ accomplished  person,”  and  much  more 


A HASTY  SKETCH  DRA-\VX 
WITH  A PENCIL  IN  COURSE 
OF  CONVERSATION,  BY  A 
KOREAN  WHO  WAS  NOT 
AN  ARTIST. 


246 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


nearly  does  them  justice  ; for  to  sing  is  but  a small  part  of  their 
duty.  Their  business  is  to  sing,  play,  talk,  flirt,  and  generally 
to  make  themselves  as  agreeable  as  possible ; for  they  constitute 
all  the  female  society  there  is.  Until  affected  latterly  by  West- 
ern ideas,  the  Japanese  women,  with  the  exception  of  a few 
court  ladies,  were  in  no  way  companions  of  the  men.  They 
were,  in  the  narrowest  sense,  Avlves,  mothers,  and  housekeep- 
ers. To  supply  in  some  sort  this  lack  of  female  society, 
the  geisha  came  into  existence.  She  is  a professional  enter- 
tainer, who,  after  a thorough  course  of  preparatory  study, 
devotes  her  life  to  enlivening*  banquets,  which  are  always, 
except  for  her  presence,  exclusively  stag-parties.  So  popular 
is  the  institution,  that  the  ii-eisha  of  a single  ward  of  Tokio 
are  numbered  by  hundreds. 

In  Korea,  the  profession  is  much  less  cultivated.  In  Soul, 
there  are  only  between  twenty  and  thirty  geisha,  and  they  are 
not  nearly  so  accomplished  as  their  Japanese  cousins.  The 
smallness  of  the  number  Itself  implies  a want  of  excellence  in 
the  individual ; for  were  there  a demand,  it  would  stimulate 
quality  no  less  than  quantity.  But  though  Soul  is  a large 
city,  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  is  not  a rich  one.  Only 
the  officials  can  often  afford  themselves  the  luxm*}'. 

W’^hen  this  bouquet  of  damsels  — for  they  were  named  Miss 
Peach  Blossom,  Miss  Plum  Flower,  Miss  Rose,  Miss  Moon- 
beam, and  Miss  Fragrant  Iris  — had  scattered  themselves  in  such 
a manner  that  each  man  might  have  a flower,  the  servants 
filled  up  the  glasses  again,  and  the  stream  of  merriment  flowed 
on  redoubled.  The  laughter  of  the  girls  furnished  applause  to 
any  unusually  personal  sail}’,  and  it  was  only  when  the  fair 
ones  sang  that  they  saddened  us.  The  quavers,  which  largely 
take  the  place  of  notes,  gave  to  my  ear  the  effect  of  a plaintive 
wail.  The  most  noticeable  and  charming  characteristics  of  these 
geisha  were  their  gentleness  and  delicacy.  These  traits  are. 


A KOEEAN  BANQUET. 


247 


however,  peculiar  neither  to  the  geisha  nor  to  Korea,  but  are 
distinoruishino-  traits  of  all  far-Eastern  women.  A far-Eastern 
woman  never  seems  to  forget  under  any  circumstances  that  she 
is  a woman.  Like  their  Japanese  cousins,  they  were  petites^ 
with  remarkably  small  hands  and  feet  and,  unlike  the  Japanese, 
small  heads  too.  Their  feet  were  as  Nature  made  them  ; for 
no  Tartar  would  think  of  cramping  her  feet. 

Meanwhile  we  had  partially  come  back  in  attention,  not 
indeed  to  our  mutton,  which  is  unknown  in  Korea,  but  to  AAdiat 
followed  the  various  meats,  which  Avas  a dough  baked  broAvn  in 
large  pellets  and  eaten  Avith  honey.  It  is  related  to  the  “ mochi” 
of  Japan,  and  the  nearest  substitute  they  have  for  the  many 
articles,  from  bread  to  pastry,  that  Ave  fasliion  from  the  grains. 
The  Japanese,  oddly  enough,  do  possess  the  single  article 
sponge  cake, — a legacy  from  the  Portuguese  of  the  sixteenth 
centuiy,  and  still  called  by  their  OAvn  Portuguese  name  as 
nearly  as  Japanese  lips  can  pronounce  it.  This,  of  course, 
does  not  exist  in  Korea.  As  for  the  honey,  Korea  is  remark- 
able for  it,  and  furnishes  many  different  kinds  in  many  different 
colors.  It  is  always  served  apart  from  the  comb. 

Long  as  it  is,  CA^en  a Korean  dinner  comes  to  an  end ; and 
it  does  so  in  a parting  flush  of  glory,  in  the  shape  of  a decoc- 
tion of  pear-juice,  colored  crimsou  and  spiced  Avith  pine-nuts, 
red  like  the  sunset  or  the  autumn.  We  sipped  this  nectar  at  our 
leisure,  and  at  the  same  time  Ave  demolished  the  stately  central 
pAU’amid.  After  this  feat  Ave  leaned  back  in  our  chairs,  and  the 
attendants  lit  for  us  our  pipes.  This  service  Avas  hardly  so 
gratuitous  a luxury  as  it  sounds.  The  pipes  Avere  a yard  long; 
and  it  Avas  only  just  Avithin  the  bounds  of  possibility,  rep- 
resented in  this  case  by  the  reach  Avith  Avhich  Nature  has 
endowed  us  iu  the  arm,  to  light  them  one’s  self.  Even  AAdien 
feasible,  it  Avas  a most  uncomfortable  stretch.  The  pleasantest 
Avay  to  do  it  is  to  get  some  one  at  the  other  end  of  the  room 


248 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


to  apply  tlie  match,  wliile  you  pull  away  at  the  mouthpiece. 
In  this  case  etiquette  demanded  that  the  servant  should  start 
it  himself,  and  bring  it  to  us  already  going.  A not  unwarranted 
squeamishness  made  me  always  object  to  this;  and  whenever 
I could  catch  them  in  time  I waived  the  ceremony.  The  pipes 
were  made  of  slender  bamboo,  fitted  with  brass  bowls  and 
brazen  mouthpieces,  but  finished  to  resemble  silver,  Tliough 
of  the  same  form,  it  is  a much  more  nearly  full  grown  specimen 
of  a pipe  than  the  Japanese ; and  what  is  especially  pleasing, 
tlie  bowls  are  much  larger,  so  that  one  has  not  continually  to  be 
knocking  out  the  ashes  and  refilling  them, — an  operation  which 
S2)oils  the  enjoyment  of  the  latter,  to  our  way  of  thinking.  It 
would  also  consume  far  too  much ‘time,  were  the  Japanese  not 
so  deft  at  the  trick. 

Smoking  is  as  common  in  Korea  as  in  Japan ; that  is, 
everybody  smokes  — all  the  time.  Not  to  smoke  is  so  much 
of  an  exception  in  either  land  that  when,  for  instance,  in 
Japan  the  “ tabako-bon,”  or  wooden  box  with  the  ash-tray, 
etc.,  is  handed  round,  — the  first  attention  shown  a guest,  — 
a man  who  does  not  smoke  invariably  excuses  himself  by  say- 
ing that  he  is  a rude  rustic  fellow  who  unfortunately  lacks 
the  polisli  of  the  habit. 

While  we  gathered  into  the  usual  post-prandial  knots,  the 
girls  made  ready  to  dance.  Tliey  took  off  several  upper  gar- 
ments without  producing  the  effect  of  having  taken  off  any- 
thing; for  their  dresses  differed  amazingly  little  in  kind, 
though  excessive  in  quantity,  and  came  off  one  after  the  other 
like  so  many  enclosing  sliells.  Wlien  they  got  through  they 
were  as  much  dressed  to  the  eye  as  they  had  been  before. 
(Here  I may  add  that  the  Koreans  are  a people  who  cover 
their  persons  with  punctilious  care,  and  are  shocked  by  the 
indifference  about  exposure  common  in  neighboring  Japan.) 
Having  thus  prepared  themselves,  one  of  them  then  tucked 


A KOEEAX  BAXQUET. 


249 


up  lier  long-  skirts  that  they  might  not  trail  on  the  ground,  and 
began  slowly  to  revolve  with  her  arms  extended  horizontally, 
after  the  manner  of  a dancing  dervisli.  Fortunately  for  her 
own  ecpiilibrium  and  our  eyes,  her  intent  Avas  not  the  same ; 
instead  of  trying  how  long  she  could  keep  going  in  one  di- 
rection, she  soon  reversed  the  motion,  and  even  varied  it  Avith 
other  gestures.  Another  then  joined  the  first,  noAv  advancing, 
noAv  retreating,  and  performing  all  manner  of  half-jAantoniimic 
motions,  but  turning  continuously.  It  Avas  one  of  the  sloAvest 
dances  I eA^er  beheld.  It  Avas  accompanied  by  some  music,  and 
encouraged  by  the  singing  of  another  geisha.  A good  name 
for  it  Avould  be  the  peg-top  dance. 

This  Avas  my  first  experience  of  Korean  dancing,  and  I Avas 
not  beAvitched.  Luckily  for  my  opinion  of  it,  I subsequently 
saw  many  others,  — notably  a sort  of  soldier  dance,  Avhich  Avas 
exceedingly  good. 

The  short  afternoon  had  draAvn  to  an  end,  and  the  lanterns 
of  tlie  officials  Avere  being  one  by  one  liglited.  It  Avas  a sign 
of  the  bi-eaking'  up.  A dinner  in  Korea  is  a day,  not  a night, 
affair;  and  artificial  light  is  rather  a tAvilight  of  tlie  dny  that  is 
passed  than  tlie  harbinger  of  a neAv  one  just  begun.  We  all 
prepared  to  go  home.  The  tall  lanterns  of  the  officials  — they 
stood  three  feet  hio-h  — added  not  a little  to  the  scene.  The 
candle  Avitliin  Avas  draped  from  A'ieAv  by  an  outer  covering  of 
gauze  of  a brilliant  red  or  a green,  or  half  one,  half  the  other, 
according  to  the  rank  of  the  official.  These  stood  round  in  tlie 
hall,  giving  out  their  dingy-colored  light,  or  Avere  carried  and 
swung  in  the  court3’ard,  as  one  b}'  one  Ave  summoned  our 
chairs,  got  into  them,  and  then  — each  a cortege  in  himself, 
so  great  Avas  the  retinue  that  followed  him  — set  off  doAvn 
the  vallej"  home. 


250 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOKXING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


MY  FEIEND  THE  MATHEMATICIAN. 


T lias  often  been  said  that  Poetry  and  Mathematics  are  own 


A sisters.  They  differ  in  feature,  but  not  in  blood  ; and  their 
common  mother  is  Imagination.  The  saying  will  soon  lose,  if 
indeed  it  has  not  already  lost,  the  brilliant  glitter  of  a seem- 
ing paradox,  but  only  to  be  recognized  with  all  the  more  dis- 
tinctness as  a truism.  For  art  is  to  the  senses  what  science  is 
to  tliouo-lit,  and  both  have  their  birth  in  the  realms  of  fancv. 
To  a})preciate  the  one  the  senses  must  be  acute,  to  under- 
stand the  other  the  mind  must  be  discerning ; but  to  originate 
in  either,  this  is  as  truly  dependent  upon  imagination  in  sci- 
ence as  in  art.  The  faculty  has  to  do  with  thought  pictures 
there,  with  sense  creations  here ; but  in  both  the  creative  idea 
comes  seemingly  from  without  the  man  himself.  It  comes 
suddenly  upon  him,  as  the  flame,  on  relighting  a candle  that 
still  is  warm,  appears  to  flxll  to  the  wick  from  the  air  above 
it.  But  the  wick  must  be  warm,  the  mind  prepared,  or  the 
spark  never  kindles. 

Of  all  the  arts,  perhaps  the  one  most  closely  allied  to  mathe- 
matics is  music.  As  on  the  one  hand  it  is  more  completely  a 
creation,  so  on  the  other  it  is  more  capable  of  analysis.  Xow, 
its  sound  calls  up  feelings  tliat  seemed  dead,  so  fast  they  slum- 
bered ; and  again,  and  its  study  suggests  some  of  the  most 
interesting  of  pliysical  problems. 


MY  FEIEND  THE  MATHEMATICTAX. 


251 


But  however  we  maA^  associate  sound  with  sense,  Ave  should 
hardly  liaA^e  derived  the  measures  of  one  from  those  of  the 
other.  We  should  hardly  have  made  melody  to  spring-  from 
arithmetic,  still  less  arithmetic  from  melody.  To  hind  them  by 
law  who  are  already  espoused  in  heart,  is  one  of  the  prettiest 
conceits  of  the  far-East.  Tliough  it  comprehends  not  the  real 
tie  between  the  two,  custom,  from  the  old  j)astoral  days  of  the 
shepherd’s  song,  has  bequeathed  it  most  curiously,  as  it  were 
a symbol  for  the  bond.  With  it  the  key-note  of  all  science  is 
actually  a note,  — a note  of  music  ; for  the  standard  of  all 
measures  is  based  upon  the  size  of  a certain  flute,  whose  self- 
determined  criterion  of  accuracy  is  the  sound  it  is  capable  of 
giving  forth.  Instead  of  man’s  stature,  the  cubit,  the  foot,  the 
ell  ; instead  of  the  earth’s  size,  the  part  of  the  arc  of  a meridian ; 
instead  even  of  modern  science,  Avith  its  self-dependent  absolute 
units  for  bases  of  measurement,  — Ave  have  here  a A'oice  as  the 
ultimate  appeal.  Truly,  there  is  something  of  Arcadia  in  it, 
something  fortuitously  fitting  to  that  time  Avhen  the  world  Avas 
truer  to  its  instincts  of  beauty  than  the  treadmill  of  coiiA-en- 
tionality  suffers  us  to  sIioav  ourselves  to-day. 

The  opening  page  of  flir-Eastern  treatises  of  mathematics 
begins  as  folloAvs  : — 

“ The  measures  of  length,  of  A’olume,  and  of  Aveight,  all  are 
deriA'ed  from  the  length  of  a certain  kind  of  flute.  This  flute 
is  of  bamboo,  and  its  long-shortness  [so  the  original  tersely 
puts  it]  such  as  to  produce  a particular  [specified]  nofe. 

“A  certain  number  of  grains  of  millet  of  average  size  make 
up  a length  equal  to  that  of  the  flute.  This  grain  of  millet 
forms  the  unit  of  length. 

“ The  flute  Avill  hold  tAveh’e  hundred  grains  of  millet.  This 
is  the  unit  of  A’olume. 

“ The  Aveight  of  the  tAvelve  hundred  grains  gives  the  unit  of 
weight.” 


252 


THE  LAXD  OE  THE  MOEXIXG  CALM. 


So  runs,  in  substance,  the  ancient  Chinese  definition,  now 
some  decades  of  centuries  old.  But  before  we  pursue  the  sub- 
ject itself,  — which  will,  perhaps,  prove  of  interest  to  others 
beside  the  mathematician,  — let  me  speak  of  a man  about 
whom  to  me,  and  also  I trust  to  the  reader,  there  hangs  the 
mantle  of  a striking  personality. 

lie  is  a Korean  mathematician,  and,  what  is  not  common 
tliere,  an  original  one.  He  was  brought  to  call  on  me  one  day 
by  appointment,  and  I liked  him  from  his  first  smile.  His 
keen  piercing  eye  sliowed  him  a man  of  quick  intelligence,  and 
Ids  purple  figured-silk  wristers  betrayed  Inm  a person  of  taste. 
True  to  his  passion,  we  had  no  sooner  broken  the  ice  of  in- 
troduction than  he  plunged  at  once  into  his  subject,  and  be- 
gan giving  me  ])roblems.  Tliese  were,  to  our  notion,  simple 
enough,  but  not  without  interest,  — variations  of  our  geo- 
metrical problems ; and  they  gained  no  slight  attraction  from 
their  Oriental  garb.  Wlien  he  received  tlie  solutions  his 
bright  eyes  spaikled,  he  moved  his  chair  nearer,  and  laid 
his  hand  affectionately  on  nn’  arm.  Some  of  Ids  questions 
were  an  inheritance  from  the  old  Cldnese  masters ; some 
were  the  product  of  his  own  brain.  The  better  to  write, 
he  took  off  his  wristers,  and  so  gave  me  a chance,  while 
I waited  for  him  to  write  out  his  questions,  to  feast  my 
eyes  upon  the  color  and  the  workmanship.  The  patterned 
silk  was  exquisite,  in  two  la}’ers ; and  the  rose  tint  below 
showed  throim'h  the  blue  above,  miimliim  into  an  everchaimino’ 
purple. 

He  came  again,  the  following  day,  and  presented  me  with 
a fan  made  of  paper  set  upon  wood  fashioned  to  represent 
bird’s-eye  maple,  the  eyes  marked  by  charring  of  the  wood. 
The  whole  was  delicate,  with  the  delicacy  that  pervades  every- 
thing far-Eastern.  This  ceremony  over,  he  drew  forth  from 
his  sleeve  a volume  on  mathematics  of  his  own  writing,  and 


MY  FKIEXD  THE  MATHEMATICIAN^. 


253 


proceeded  to  set  me  more  problems.  I was  so  struck  witli 
liis  examination  of  me,  that  I asked  him  if  I could  not  get  a 
copy  of  the  book.  He  replied  that  he  would  have  it  copied 
for  me.  Tliere  were  two  volumes,  it  appeared,  which  in  a 
few  days  he  brought  with  him  and  presented  to  me,  freshly 
])ainted.  Painted  ! — the  word  calls  up  the  thought  of  tlie 
second  muse  that  has  interwoven  her  art  with  what  we  are 
perhaps  too  prone  to  class  as  stern,  dry  reasoning;  for  in  the 
far-East  writing  and  painting  are  one.  Both  are  done  equally 
with  the  brush  ; both  require,  to  Tartar  taste,  equal  skill,  and 
both  are  therefore  equalh"  honored.  To  write  well  is  as  diffi- 
cult and  highly  valued  an  art  as  to  paint  well.  In  fact,  the 
two  are  not  distinct,  but  are  branches  of  one  and  the  same  art, 
and  one  word  describes  both.  To  write  or  paint  a book  or 
even  a letter,  as  a master  would  do  it,  is  very  difficult ; even 
to  appreciate  the  touch  requires  a great  deal  of  study.  A 
word  will  suffice  to  suggest  the  difficulty.  Every  Chinese 
character,  as  the  reader  knows,  is  made  up  of  several  strokes. 
The  Western  tyro  imagines  at  first  that  when  he  shall  have 
mastered  the  kind  and  position  of  these  strokes,  his  Avork 
Avill  be  done.  Delusive  deduction  ! The  subject,  not  inap- 
propriately, here  reminds  one  of  some  of  the  higher  mathe- 
matics, Avhere  order  is  as  essential  as  quality.  Each  stroke 
has  position  in  time  as  Avell  as  position  in  space.  The  vn- 
rious  strokes  must  follow  one  another  in  a definite  order ; 
otherwise  the  form  even  of  the  stroke  is  altered,  for  the 
brush  in  leaving  the  paper  marks  unaA'oidably,  in  free  paint- 
ing, a parting  dash.  To  an  experienced  eye,  an  error  in  the 
order  of  the  strokes  is  evident  at  a glance.  This  is  the  first 
step  to  be  learned;  afterwards  comes  the  acquirement  of  touch, 
which  involves  the  skill  of  natural  aptitude  and  the  practice 
of  years.  And  thus  it  happens  that  this  book  of  mathematics 
Avas  painted. 


254 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOKNHS^G  CALM. 


A tliii’d  muse  entwines  lierself  about  the  book,  — Poetry.  To 
her  sister,  Music,  she  yielded  the  pas  of  introduction  ; to  Paint- 
ing, the  material  form  of  expression  ; but  she  reserved  for  her- 
self to  touch  into  song  the  maxims  wliich  sliape  the  whole. 
Where  we  should  expect  the  enunciation  of  a proposition,  w’e 
find  a poem ; in  place  of  a rule,  a rhythm.  As  gaunt  and 
bare  as  skeletons,  formulae  may  seem  as  soulless;  but  even 
here  the  Muse  contrives  to  throw  something  of  feeling  into 
the  dry  mnemonic  bones.  Let  us  listen  to  what  is  entitled 
“ The  Song  for  finding  the  First  Figure  in  the  Cube  Root  of 
a Given  Number.”  I give  it  literally,  without  trying  to  keep 
the  poetic  form.  I doubt  whether  I shall  be  able  to  convey 
the  real  beauty  of  the  idea.  The  conception  is  to  our  thought 
so  novel  that  the  line  between  the  beautiful  and  the  ludicrous 
is-  a very  difficult  path  to  tread. 

“Of  a thousand  the  cube  root  is  ten;  this  is  clear. 

‘When  the  number  given  is  thirty  thousand,  the  root  is  only  thirty  and  a 
little  more. 

The  first  figure  in  the  root  of  nine  hundred  and  ninety  thousand  even  is 
but  some  tens ; 

And  the  root  is  but  one  hundred  when  the  number  has  reached  a million.” 

At  first,  perhaps,  the  poetry  does  not  appear;  the  idea  seems 
as  devoid  of  beauty  as  the  translated  form.  But  let  us  tiy,  by 
reading  through  the  words  the  thought,  to  see  what  it  calls  up 
to  the  mind  of  a far-Oriental.  Here  then  the  motif  of  the 
poem  is  the  changelessness  of  the  cube  root  amid  the  ever- 
changing  transitory  number.  We  detect  the  idea  in  the  stud- 
ied comparisons  and  in  the  little  accompanying  particles  to 
intensify  the  antithesis.  Numbers  succeed  each  other,  like 
flowers  that  last  but  for  a day ; but  the  root,  deeper  down, 
lives  on  perennial.  Or  like  the  landscape  to  a traveller, 
the  nearer  and  better  seen  features  hurry  quickly  by,  while 


MY  FRIEND  THE  MATHEMATICIAN. 


255 


the  distant  linger  with  him,  changeless  because  so  very  far 
away. 

To  us,  j)erhaps,  the  sentiment  seems  too  abstract  to  please ; 
but  we  must  not  forget  that  where  woman  is  not  an  inspiration. 
Nature  and  even  abstract  thought  have  taken  sentiment  to 
themselves  in  a manner  that  appears  over-subtile  to  our 
minds. 

But  such  a feeling  is  not  absolutely  unknown  in  Europe 
and  America.  Only,  what  we  should  deem  a passing  conceit, 
as  it  scurried  through  the  brain  of  a student  at  home,  becomes 
a poem  to  the  lifelong  student  in  the  far-East,  who  has  little 
else  to  think  about. 

In  the  original,  the  lines  have  cadence,  rh3Hhm,  rlnune. 
Like  the  Hebrew  Psalms,  one  phrase  balances  the  other;  and, 
like  more  modern  poetry,  each  concluding  word  matches  in 
sound  the  word  of  the  line  before. 

These  poems  are  very  old ; they  run  back  into  long-past 
centuries  of  Chinese  civilization.  Nor  is  tlieir  association  with 
mathematics  an  isolated  phenomenon.  The  whole  official  oli- 
garch}^ is  based  upon  proficiency  in  verse.  But  they  have 
here  another  aspect  wliich  is  even  more  interesting  than  mere 
age.  The}’  point  again  to  that  shadowy  influence  from  the 
homes  of  Aryan  thought.  Books  of  Indian  geometry  and 
algebra  show  the  same  desire  to  interweave  philosophy  and 
song. 

But  without,  at  present,  crossing  to  the  old  Altaic  table-land, 
tills  book  of  the  Korean  matliematician  bears  internal  evidence 
of  some  value. ' It  contains  unmistakable  siiiiis  of  a mathemati- 
cal  knowledge  prior  to  any  contact  with  modern  European 
thouglit.  Tills  knowledge  is  rude  and  empirical,  and  is  found 
side  by  side  with  wliat  is  evidently  of  later  date  ; but  it  is 
quite  possible  to  separate  the  two.  To  appreciate  the  interest 
of  the  discover}’,  a little  history  is  necessary. 


256 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  OALM. 


About  a hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  the  Jesuits  entered 
the  Celestial  Empire,  and  at  once  became,  in  a most  singular 
manner,  the  governing  power  of  the  State.  They  were  wise 
enough  to  preach  physics  as  well  as  theology,  and  in  conse- 
cjnence  they  were  constituted  a sort  of  advisory  board  by  the 
emperor.  Their  practical  physics  came  in  very  opportunely. 
At  that  time  the  adjusting  of  the  annual  calendar  was  proving  a 
source  of  continual  annoyance  to  the  Chinese  sages.  How  to 
reconcile  the  sun  and  the  moon  into  harmonious  revolutions  was 
a matter  involving  some  embarrassment.  The  calender  com- 
pilers suffered  from  an  excess  of  units.  They  had  entangled 
themselves  in  the  difficulties  of  a double  standard  of  measures 
of  time,  which  with  us,  where  time  is  money,  may  be  paralleled 
by  those  of  bi-metallism.  Thirteen  lunations  pretty  nearly  went 
to  make  np  the  year,  but  not  exactly,  and  there  was  a certain 
excess  which  had  to  be  provided  for.  Then  again  there  was  al- 
ways the  question  as  to  where  the  thirteenth  moon  should  go 
in.  They  were  not  sorry  therefore  to  have  the  Men  of  the 
Western  Sea,  as  they  called  the  strangers,  solve  the  enigma 
for  them.  This  solution  easily  ])aved  the  way  for  a teaching 
of  Western  mathematics;  and  the  Chinese,  recognizing  their 
utility  and  perceiving  no  possible  danger  from  their  intro- 
duction, engrafted  them  upon  their  own  crude  system.  Front 
China  the  new  scientific  principles  found  their  way  into  Korea 
and  Japan. 

In  consequence  of  this  adoption,  one’s  researches  among 
the  learned,  or  mousings  among  old  bookshops,  commonly  end 
onlv  ill  disappointment.  The  lucky  discoveries  turn  out  on 
investio;ation  to  be  but  second-hand  learnin<r  from  abroad, 
amusing  often  from  the  o*arb  in  ivliich  it  is  found  clothed, 
but  to  the  discoverer  home-made  and  consequently  homely. 
One  is  so  often  disappointed  that  he  comes  at  last  to  be- 
lieve in  nothing  original.  Men  before  me,  I was  told,  had 


MY  FRIEND  THE  MATHEMATICIAN. 


257 


liimted  through  Japan  and  found  nothing.  I iiad  given  up 
the  search  as  hopeless,  wlieu  fortune  threw  this  book  across 
iny  path,  in  Korea. 

In  order  not  to  weary  the  non-matheinatical  reader,  I shall 
not  go  into  the  evidence  on  the  matter  of  ag’e.  I shall  only 
mention  a few  facts  in  themselves  sufficient,  it  seems  to  me, 
to  excite  an  interest. 

Every  one  has  probably  heard  of  what  is  known  as  “ the 
carpenter’s  rule.”  It  is  a mechanical  device  for  obtaining  a 
right  angle,  — an  important  angle  to  carpenters  in  adjusting  the 
parts  of  a building;  for  getting  them  square,  as  it  is  called.  It 
depends  upon  the  discovery  of  a curious  mathematical  ratio.  If 
a triangle  be  made  — out  of  wood  or  metal,  let  us  say  — whose 
three  sides  shall  bear  to  one  another  the  proportion  of  3,  4,  and 
5,  the  angle  enclosed  between  the  sides  whose  lengths  are  3 and 
4 respectively,  will  be  a right  angle.  Now,  this  device,  which 
to  most  carpenters  is  a mysterious,  unexplained  fact,  not  only 
makes  its  appearance  in  the  book,  but  does  so  under  the  seal  of 
hoary  antiquity.  There  is  from  Confucius,  from  “ The  Book  of 
Rites,”  — an  odd  place  to  find  such  a thing,  — the  following 
quotation:  “A  right-angled  ruler  can  be  formed  by  making 
the  base,  altitude,  and  hypothenuse  in  the  proportion  of  3,  4, 
and  5 ; ” “ such  a ruler,”  adds  the  Japanese  translator  in  ex- 
planation of  the  word,  “as  is  used  by  Japanese  carpenters.” 
Both  the  ratio,  then,  and  the  device  were  known  in  China  at 
least  twenty-four  centuries  ago.  A fact  like  this  seems  to 
bring  the  intellectual  kinship  of  the  world  startlingly  before 
one. 

They  were  also  acquainted  at  a very  early  date  with  some 
knowledge  of  the  Important  ratio  of  the  diameter  of  a circle 
to  its  perimeter,  — Avhat  is  popularly  known  as  squaring  the 
circle.  It  is  a ratio  of  great  value  in  many  problems  about 
the  contents  of  solids.  The  book  reads  as  follows : — 


17 


258 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


“ All  these  calculations  rest  on  the  formula  of  circumference 
3,  diameter  1,  which  was  exclusively  employed  by  the  ancient 
mathematician  Cho  Ritsu  Ken^  and  others.  But  subsequent 
mathematicians  found  that  this  ratio  was  not  exactly  true.  We 
enumerate  below  some  of  the  more  exact  formulm : — 

Diameter  100  feet,  circumference  314  feet. 

Diameter  7 feet,  circumference  22  feet. 

Diameter  10  feet,  circumference  32  feet.” 

Now,  Cho  Ritsu  Ken  lived  twenty-one  centuries  ago.  How 
lie  obtained  his  ratio,  as  well  as  the  subsequent  mathematicians 
tiieirs.  it  would  be  interesting  to  learn.  All  that  the  book  vouch- 
safes is  this  : “ The  value  of  the  circumference  was  fonnd  by 
dividing  the  area  of  a circle.”  From  which  we  may  conclude 
that  it  was  obtained,  as  it  first  was  witii  us,  by  the  method  of 
inscribed  polygons.  Still  more  interesting  would  it  be  to  dis- 
cover l)y  wliat  means  they  became  acquainted  with  its  applica- 
tion to  the  solution  of  problems  of  volume,  such  as  that  of  the 
sphere ; for  solve  it  they  did,  and  they  have  left  us  the  formula 
embodied  in  “ The  Song  of  tlie  Sphere.”  But  by  Avhat  path 
they  arrived  at  the  solution  they  do  not  say.  Unfortunately, 
on  such  points  the  book  is  mute.  It  furnishes  a set  of  formulm, 
and  these  it  deems  enough.  These  empirical  commands  are 
blindly  learned  and  blindly  followed  to-day  by  students  who 
have  not  the  fointest  idea  of  the  meaning  of  the  process.  We 
see  again  the  blight  of  learning  in  place  of  what  slionld  be 
the  fruitfulness  of  thought.  In  the  study  of  a master,  what 
he  said  is  with  them  the  important  point,  not  why  he  said  it. 
Truly,  mathematics  are  as  inanely  taught  in  the  far-East  as 
Latin  and  Greek  have  been  with  us. 

For  the  sake  of  its  novelty  I will  quote  one  more  thing 
from  the  book,  — its  system  of  multiplication.  Our  simple 


^ This  is  the  Japanese  furm. 


MY  FRIEND  THE  MATHEMATICIAN. 


259 


practice  of  writing  one  of  the  niunbers  below  the  other,  and 
then  multiplying  m situ  in  successive  rows,  is  impossible  with 
them,  because  the  idea  of  expressing  large  numbers  by  succes- 
sively written  digits  is  unknown.  We  make  position  itself  ex- 
press size  ; they  do  not.  We  write  312,  and  it  means  “ three 
hundred  and  twelve.”  They  can  only  express  three  hundred 
and  twelve  by  writing  “three  hundreds,  one  ten,  two.”  I have 
been  obliged  to  write  “hundreds”  in  the  plural,  in  order  to  con- 
vey the  meaning.  Really,  it  is  a symbol  incapable  of  a plural, 
as  all  Chinese  characters  are;  tlie  plnral  signification  is  given  it 
by  the  3 that  precedes  it.  In  short,  then,  to  write  312  five  char- 
acters are  necessary,  as  will  be  seen  by  counting  the  words  in 
the  translation.  The  expressions  “ten,”  “hundred,”  “thousand,” 
etc.,  are  not  numbers  as  we  know  them ; they  are  a sort  of  mid- 
dle conception  between  our  numbers  and  expressions  of  things 
such  as  horse,  cow,  field.  Fully  to  explain  the  idea  would  take 
too  long.  Suffice  it  to  say,  therefore,  that  it  is  one  of  the  many 
subtile  conceptions  of  the  far-East,  but  subtile  simply  because 
foreign  to  our  every-day  methods  of  thought.  A study  of  a 
fiir-Eastern  language  teems  with  such  conceptions,  which  is  one 
reason  why  such  study  is  so  interesting. 

To  express  multijdication,  then,  this  is  what  they  have  de- 
vised. Suppose  they  wished  to  multiply  ^ ^ 

27  by  56.  Thev  would  write  it  as  in 
the  accompanying  cut.  They  multiply 
7 by  6,  which  equals  42,  and  place  the  4 
in  the  corner  of  the  second  square  from 
the  right  in  the  lower  row,  and  the  2 in 
the  corner  of  the  first  lower  square.  The 
same  is  done  in  its  proper  position  Avith  each  of  the  other 
simple  multiplications.  Then  all  the  small  numbers  in  each 
square  in  the  lower  roAv  are  added  together,  making  the  big 
number  in  the  centre  of  each 


Each  of  these  big  numbers  is  then 


260 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


added  to  the  small  number  in  the  corner  of  the  square  diago- 
nally above  it  to  the  right,  and  the  units’  digit  of  the  sum  written 
in  the  centre  of  this  square.  The  second  digit  of  the  sum  is  car- 
ried forward  to  form  a part  of  the  next  addition.  Lastly,  the  big 
numbers  are  added  together  in  the  same  direction,  and  the  re- 
sult is  read  by  beginning  at  the  top  on  the  left  and  reading 
round.  The  answer,  for  instance,  in  this  case  is  1512.  They 
still  express  of  the  process  much  that  we  carry  in  our  heads. 

The  symbols  for  numbers  in  Korea,  as  in  Japan,  are  Chi- 
nese. These  Tartar  peoples  apparently  never  possessed  any 
numerals  of  their  own,  just  as  from  their  own  heads  they  had 
evolved  no  writing  at  the  time  they  came  under  the  influence 
of  Chinese  thought.  But  the  Chinese  symbols  are  not  them- 
selves native.  In  their  turn,  they  were  borrowed  from  India. 
Though  we  should  never  recognize  any  connection  to-day,  they 
are,  in  fact,  transformations  of  the  symbols  of  our  own  fore- 
fathers. This  species  of  thought-money — for  it  is  both  a 
measure  of  value  and  in  some  sort  a quantitative  medium  of 
exchange  — was  invented  by  the  ancient  Aryan  races,  and  then 
circulated  over  the  world,  — to  China,  on  the  one  hand,  and  to 
Europe,  through  the  Arabs,  on  the  other.  Strange  as  they 
look  to-day,  the  same  symbols,  worn  and  changed  by  use,  face 
one  another  across  the  Pacific.  A study  of  the  older  Indian 
forms  makes  this  almost  indisputable.  The  most  ancient  bear 
a striking  resemblance  to  the  Chinese  ; so  that  Ave  can  hardly 
doubt  that  in  some  of  those  journeys  Avhich  inhabitants  of 
the  Celestial  Empire  made  to  the  AVest,  they  borroAved  and 
brought  back  home  Avhat  has  remained  almost  unchanged  in 
form  even  to  the  present  day.  MeanAvhile  the  Indian  sym- 
bols Avent  on  changing,  until  at  the  time  the  Arabs  in  their 
turn  came  and  borroAved,  the  symbols  had  nearly  reached  the 
form  Avith  Avhich  we  are  noAv  familiar.  The  symbols  continued 
to  change  at  home,  and  the  travellers  somewhat  altered  Avluit 


MY  TKIEND  THE  MATHEMATICIAN, 


2G1 


they  liad  carried  away.  The  Arabs  became  mathematicians  as 
well  as  conquerors;  and  after  badly  frightening'  Europe,  they 
so  impressed  her  philosophers  that  these  not  only  sought  from 
them  the  matter  of  their  teachings,  but  took  its  very  form. 
The  signs  proved  so  convenient  that  they  descended  into 
general  use. 

We  now  paint  them  upon  bales  of  merchandise,  and  send 
them  to  make  their  own  way  over  the  face  of  the  earth.  It 
Avas  thus  that  my  friend  the  mathematician  first  saAV  them. 
One  day  he  said  to  me,  with  that  mixture  of  hesitation  and 
desire  that  marks  a man  Avhen  about  to  expound  a discovery  of 
his  own,  that  he  could  Avrite  our  numerals  ; and  then  he  pro- 
ceeded to  do  so  in  their  proper  order.  He  had  learned  them, 
it  appeared,  by  carefully  examining  the  feAv  boxes  of  foreign 
goods  AAdiich  had  already  found  their  AA'ay  to  Soul. 

He  often  came  to  see  me,  and  sometimes  I Avould  meet  him 
in  the  street.  Unexpectedly  Ave  Avould  run  across  each  other, — 
I in  my  hurried  gait,  and  he  in  his  quiet,  dignified  Avalk,  — or  I 
Avould  look  up  and  see  him  standing  there  looking  at  me  ; and 
Avhen  AA'e  met  he  gaA^e  me  both  his  hands.  With  a certain 
pathos  he  Avould  speak  of  himself  as  of  one  avIio  lived  afar  in 
the  forests  of  the  mountains,  — one  aa’Iio  had  pondered  AAuth 
himself,  but  had  neA’er  mingled  Avith  the  life  of  the  tOAAUi, 
By  the  forest  he  meant  Soul,  and  the  city  typified  the  thought 
of  the  outside  AA’orld ; and  upon  the  titlejoage  of  his  book 
runs  the  legend,  “ By  Kim  Nak  Chip  of  the  Moon  Castle.” 


2G2 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


ARCHITECTURE. 


EW  of  iis^  Avlien  scanned  with  the  microscope  of  daily  life, 


are  altogether  noble  ; and  our  littlenesses  are  too  apt  to 
mar  the  effect  of  what  is  really  grand  to  those  avIio  observe  us 
from  too  near.  Held  close  enough,  a copper  will  eclipse  the 
sun.  To  no  people  is  this  better  known  than  to  those  of  the 
far-East.  In  order  to  be  respected  they  hedge  themselves  about 
with  ceremonial.  They  make  use  of  it  in  their  customs,  their 
Avritings,  their  dress  ; and  the  same  feeling  finds  expression  in 
the  construction  of  their  buildings.  There  it  takes  the  form  of 
a multiplicity  of  approaches ; and  as  the  more  respected  the 
object  the  greater  the  ceremonial,  it  is  towards  that  Avhich 
they  hold  most  sacred  that  the  practice  is  carried  to  its  fullest 
development.  What  Ave  see  in  a nest  of  Chinese  boxes,  one 
Avithiii  the  other,  is  an  illustration  of  exactly  the  same  prin- 
ciple. The  object  always  eventually  found  contained  in  the 
innermost  is  enhanced  in  value  jnst  in  proportion  to  the  diffi- 
culty of  getting  at  it.  This  object  is  represented,  in  Korea, 
first  by  the  king  and  secondly  by  the  magistracy.  The  Gov- 
ernment is  eA’erything  that  is  great.  So,  also,  everybody  avIio 
is  anybody  is  in  the  Government. 

The  a])proaches  A’ary  in  kind,  according  to  the  degree  of  in- 
timacy they  bear  to  the  main  building.  First  and  outermost 
stands  Avhat  is  called,  in  Korean,  the  Hong  Sal  Mun,  or  “ Red 


ARCHITECTUEE. 


263 


Arrow  Gate.”  This  is  a singularly  odd  and  strikingly  unique 
structure,  and  to  the  student  it  derives  still  further  interest  from 
being  purely  Tartar.  In  origin,  it  is  religious,  or  more  exactly, 
superstitious ; for  it  dates  back  to  the  earliest  spirit-worship,  — 
the  old  mythological  da}"s  when  a hero  was  a demigod  and 
a king  by  ancestry  divine.  For  in  the  aboriginal  faith,  un- 
changed to  this  day,  the  king  is  the  lineal  descendant  of  the 
gods,  and  their  representative  and  mediator  to  men  ; and  so, 
because  of  his  genealogy,  it  was  erected  as  an  outer  portal  to 
his  gates.  Nor  did  the  custom  stop  there.  His  glory  was  re- 
flected upon  those  who  carried  out  his  will,  — the  official  class. 
From  his  mansion  it  was  copied  for  theirs,  so  that  now  the  dis- 
tinctive mark  of  a magistracy  is  the  Red  Arrow  Gate.  This  is 
what  it  is  in  Korea.  But  it  is  all  the  more  interesting  that  its 
acquaintance  was  not  made  there.  In  fact,  till  now  its  presence 
there  was  not  known.  It  was  in  Japan  that  the  first  example  of 
this  curious  structure  came  to  the  notice  of  the  Western  world, 
and  then  in  connection  with  temples.  It  is  there  known  by 
the  name  of  ‘‘  torii,”  commonly  but  questionably  translated  as 
“ bird’s  rest.”  Originally  the  portal  to  Shinto  shrines,  it  was 
borrowed  by  Buddhism,  and  now  guards  indifferently  the  ap- 
proach to  buildings  of  eitlier  religion.  In  this  it  differs  entirely 
from  the  use  to  which  it  is  put  in  Korea,  for  in  the  peninsula  it 
never  does  service  to  Buddhist  temples.  At  first  sight  the  rea- 
son is  perliaps  not  evident ; yet  its  use  in  the  one  land  explains 
collaterally  its  use  in  the  other,  and  points  to  a primitive  idea, 
of  which  both  are  natural,  though  different,  applications.  In 
Japan,  the  Mikado  is  a son  of  heaven,  and  head  of  the  Sliinto 
faith,  Avhich  is  the  aboriginal  belief.  Church  and  State  are  one, 
— the  Mikado  and  the  old  Shinto  faith,  — for  Buddhism  is  but 
a later  addition  to  the  religious  Avealth  of  the  country.  By  a 
mistaken  analogy  did  Buddhism  come  to  make  use  of  this  gate, 
to  AAdiich  in  truth  it  Avas  perfectly  alien.  In  Korea,  on  the  other 


264 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


hand,  tlie  State  is  all  in  all.  Instead  of  the  State’s  mersrins!' 
into  tlie  Church,  the  Church  was  very  early  swallowed  up,  at 
least  in  its  outward  expressions,  hy  the  State.  Then,  when 
Buddhism  came  to  be  engrafted  on  the  country,  there  was 
no  excuse,  such  as  existed  in  Japan,  to  give  it  what  had  by 
that  time  ceased  to  be  looked  upon  as  peculiarly  religious. 
So  the  portal  continued  to  be  employed,  as  before,  entirely 
as  a sign  of  kingly  authority,  and  was  never  converted  into 
another  synd3ol  of  Buddhistic  show. 

In  form  it  differs  slightly  from  its  Japanese  counterpart. 
It  wants  the  graceful  curves  that  make  that  so  beautiful  a 
structure  by  itself.  It  lacks,  also,  the  other’s  diversity  of  ma- 
terial. It  is  built  invariably  of  wood,  and  its  claim  to  attention 
arises  rather  from  a certain  quaint  grotesqueness  than  from 
any  intrinsic  beauty.  Two  tall  posts,  slightly  inclined  to  each 
other,  are  crossed  by  a third,  and  bound  together  a short  dis- 
tance above  their  crossing  by  still  a fourth.  All  four  are  per- 
fectly straight.  Starting  from  the  lower  and  projecting  beyond 
the  upper  horizontal  piece,  are  a row  of  vertical  beams  of  wood, 
spear-shaped.  These  are  the  arrows  of  the  name.  In  the  centre 
is  a design  as  singular  to  the  eye  as  it  is  peculiar  for  its  nn^stic 
meaning,  — two  spirals  coiled  together,  filling  the  area  of  a cir- 
cle. They  are  emblematic  of  the  positive  and  negative  essences 
of  Chinese  philosophy.  Above  them  is  the  representation  of 
tongues  of  flame.  All  this  typifies  the  power  of  the  king,  joined, 
since  the  nation  espoused  the  morality  of  Confucius,  with  a rev- 
erence for  the  sage.  As  the  name  implies,  the  whole  is  painted 
a bright  red,  which  in  Korea  is  the  kingly  color.  Its  height  is 
from  thirty  to  forty  feet. 

Its  situation  is  striking.  It  rises  by  itself  in  solitary  gran- 
deur ; it  is  not  connected  with  either  walls  or  buildings ; it 
stands  alone  and  apart.  Nor  has  it  any  particular  position 
assigned  it  with  reference  to  the  building  proper.  It  may 


AECHITECTUEE. 


265 


stand  ner.r  to  or  far  from  tlie  shrine  or  the  magistracy  to 
which  it  leads.  Placed  only  at  a respectful  distance,  it  fulfils 
but  the  one  condition  that  it  shall  face  what  it  foretells.  It 
is  there  to  direct  the  thought  as  much  as  to  impress  the  mind. 
In  Japan,  where  certain  monntains  are  sacred  and  worshipped 
as  shrines,  it  is  often  met  witli  tens  of  miles  away  from  what 
it  heralds,  alone  in  the  midst  of  Nature  on  the  top  of  some 
high  mountain-pass,  over  whicli  lies  the  road,  and  from  whose 
summit  the  pilgrim  catches  the  first  view  of  the  desired  goal, 
framed  in  like  a picture  between  its  posts.  In  Korea,  it  com- 
monly spans  the  street,  so  that  in  so  far  at  least  passers-by  do 
the  king  homage.  But  this  is  simply  because  the  street  is 
the  natural  approach.  In  the  rural  districts,  where  the  street 
is  wider,  the  portal’s  span  of  twenty  feet  can  only  occupy  the 
middle,  while  the  thoroughfare  is  as  much  around  as  under  it. 
Yet  so  compelling  is  ceremonial  tliat  no  one  Avonld  think  of 
entering  save  beneath  its  arch  ; and  in  Japan  it  is  counted  little 
short  of  sacrilege  by  properly  superstitious  persons,  on  their 
way  to  the  temple  or  the  shrine,  to  avoid  it  by  going  round. 

Its  discovery  in  Korea  is  further  interesting  as  supplying 
another  presumption  in  favor  of  a theory  suggested  by  a 
noted  scholar,  that  the  ordinarily  received  meaning  of  the 
Japanese  name  for  it,  — “birds’  rest”  — is  erroneous.  This  is 
the  meaning  of  the  Chinese  characters  by  which  it  is  at  present 
exjDressed.  But  though  these  are  the  only  direct  and  positive 
evidence  in  the  matter,  they  are  nevertheless  but  jjrima  fade 
proof  Tlie  Japanese  language  existed  before  ever  the  Chinese 
ideographs  were  adopted  to  write  it,  and  therefore  the  ideo- 
graphs Avitli  Avhich  any  word  is  now  AAwitten  are  only  eAudence 
of  Avhat  was  considered  to  be  tlie  meaning  of  that  Avord  at  the 
time  they  Avere  adopted.  There  is  abvays  behind  this  the  Jap- 
anese derivation  of  the  Avord,  AAdiich,  though  possible  of  course 
in  the  Avay  the  characters  express  it,  may  be  possible  also  in 


2G6 


THE  LAKD  OF  THE  MOKXIHG  CALM. 


another  way,  and  that  other  may  really  be  the  true  one.  Fol- 
lowing this  course,  he  suggests  that  “torii”  is  not  derived  from 
“tori”  (a  bird)  and  “i”  (to  be,  or  rest),  but  from  “tori”  (to 
pass  througli)  and  “i”  (to  be),  which  would  make  it  “a  place 
of  passing  through.”  The  only  difficulty  is  with  the  long  “ 5.” 
The  syllable  “ to  ” was  originally  “ to  wo.”  At  any  rate,  it  seems 
altogether  probable,  either  that  this  was  the  meaning,  or  else 
that  the  name  “ birds’  rest  ” was  a later  designation,  and  not 
the  original  Japanese  name  for  the  structure. 

To  account  for  such  an  improbable  name  as  “ birds’  rest,”  it 
is  customary  to  instance  the  well-known  respect  of  the  Bud- 
dhist religion  for  animals.  The  gateway  is  there,  so  it  is  said, 
to  afford  a roosting-place  for  the  sacred  pigeons  which  frequent 
many  of  the  Japanese  temples.  This  would  be  most  plausible, 
■were  tlie  thing  of  Buddhist  origin.  But  as  we  see,  again  and 
emphatically,  from  Korea,  there  is  no  original  connection  be- 
tween Buddhism  and  the  “torii.”  For  the  Red  Arrow  Gate 
has,  in  the  peninsula,  nothing  whatever  to  do  Avith  Buddhist 
temples,  and  its  name  there  is  simply  explanatory  of  its  struc- 
ture. This  does  not  prevent  birds  from  roosting  on  it, — as  one 
happened  to  do  at  the  moment  the  accompanying  photograph 
was  taken, — for  it  must  be  an  exceedingly  convenient  place 
to  roost.  But  its  popularity  with  carrion  kites  and  others  in 
Korea  at  least  suggests  that  as  regards  the  custom  of  the  Japan- 
ese pigeons,  tlie  name  probably  folloAved  the  fact,  rather  than 
the  fact  so  courteous  a dedication. 

Having  passed  under  this  portal,  and  having  — in  Korea  on 
account  of  its  loftiness,  in  Japan  for  its  remoteness  — nearly 
forgotten  that  you  had  done  so,  you  come  next  to  the  outer 
gate  proper.  Its  generic  name  is  simply  “ mun  ” (a  gate).  Its 
particular  designation  in  places  of  importance  Avill  be  “ the  gate 
of  benevolence,”  “ the  gate  of  early  spring,”  “ the  gate  of  vir- 
tuous contentment,”  and  such-like  flowery  or  moral  titles.  In 


AKCHITECTUKE. 


267 


truth,  it  is  not  properly  a gate,  but  an  archway,  and  finds  its 
t}’pe,  in  form,  in  tlie  triumphal  arches  of  ancient  Europe,  as  in 
the  arch  of  Constantine  or  the  arch  of  Titus.  In  intent,  of 
course,  it  is  different,  as  the  one  is  a ceremonial  approach,  the 
otlier  also  a commemorative  structure.  It  is  always  fitted  with 
gates.  This  exemplifies  well  the  respect  paid  to  the  approach  ; 
for  it  stands  at  times  — in  Japan  notably  — cpiite  by  itself,  and 
tlie  gates  can  serve  to  bar  only  in  imagination.  To  one  who 
disregards  tlie  rites,  an  entrance  is  as  physically  possil)le  as 
before,  — by  simpl}’  walking  round  the  gate  instead  of  through 
it.  In  Korea  a wall  is  attached  to  it,  but  it  is  in  no  sense  a 
part  of  this  wall.  With  us  the  gate  is  but  the  beautified  out- 
growth of  an  aboriginal  hole  in  whatever  it  may  be,  — wall 
or  building, — but  there  it  is  otherwise.  It  is  not  an  atljunct 
to  the  wall;  the  wall  is  an  adjunct  to  it.  In  other  words,  its 
primary  object  is  not  to  exclude,  but  to  admit. 

In  fashion,  it  is  built  like  a house  raised  a story  into  the 
air.  When  the  whole  is  of  wood,  the  effect  of  this  is  to  add  an 
apparent  second  story  underneath  ; when  of  stone,  it  looks  as 
tliough  there  had  been  a subterranean  upheaval,  by  Avhich  the 
foundation  had  been  bodily  elevated,  and  then  an  archway 
subsequently  cut  through  it.  Tlie  gates  of  the  city  of  Soul 
and  of  the  Old  and  Xew  Palaces  belong  to  this  latter  class. 
The  city  gates  are  provided  with  but  one  opening  in  the 
masonry,  formed  in  the  shape  of  a rounded  arch;  those  of 
the  palaces  have  three,  of  like  circular  form  and  all  of  equal 
size.  In  the  openings  are  fitted  massive  gates  of  wood,  sheathed 
with  iron.  Mountinjf  to  the  second  storv,  if  we  mav  so  call  it 
(though  it  might  with  more  propriety,  considering  that  there 
is  only  a passage-way  beneath,  be  spoken  of,  after  French 
analogy,  as  au  premier),  we  find  a room  open  on  the  four  sides. 
The  spot  is  a favorite  one  in  Korean  romance,  from  the  lazv 
dreaming  its  quiet  renders  possible.  Raised  above  the  din  and 


268 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


bustle  of  tlie  streets,  the  hero  of  the  tale,  who  is  always  a student, 
if  also  occasionally  a lover,  can  lose  himself  in  his  books,  while 
below,  when  he  pleases  to  turn  to  it,  throngs  the  life  in  which  it 
is  his  ambition  in  the  future  to  shiue.  Such  is  the  city  gate. 
Tiiat  of  the  functionary  is  used  for  otlier  purposes  beside  being 
tlie  resort  of  meditative  students.  It  is  the  concert  hall  of  the 
magistracy.  Being  not  far  distant  from  the  mansion  itself,  it  is 
admirably  adapted  to  tlie  purpose.  Here  may  be  seen  reposing, 
as  a symbol  of  its  duty,  the  hi"  drum.  Between  it  and  the  house 
lies  a courtyard,  across  whicli,  from  its  aerial  nest,  are  wafted 
the  plaintiye  sounds  of  Korean  music.  It  is  more  especially  for 
summer  use.  It  is  less  frequented  in  the  cold  of  winter ; not, 
howeyer,  for  the  conyenience  of  the  players,  who  do  not  mind 
twenty  degrees  of  frost  in  the  least,  but  that  the  official  — the 
owner  of  the  abode  — objects  at  that  season  to  keeping  the 
doors  of  his  house  open  to  listen. 

There  may  be  several  of  these  gates  leading  to  courtyard 
within  courtyard,  — shell  within  hu.sk ; while  in  the  centre  of 
all  stands  the  kernel,  — the  house.  Beyond  the  details  I have 
mentioned,  they  are  almost  identical  in  structure  with  the  house 
itself,  to  which,  therefore,  Ave  Avill  at  once  proceed.  The  holy  of 
holies,  as  it  often  is  in  Japan,  — here  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of 
the  magistrate,  — is  in  grandeur  the  reverse  of  what  a European 
or  an  American  Avould  build  in  a similar  situation.  Instead  of 
a gradual  leading  up  to  the  finest  of  the  Avhole,  the  effect  is,  if 
anything,  a diminishing  view,  a sort  of  perspective  realized,  and 
at  first  rather  shocks  by  its  bathos. 

For  the  sake  of  localizing  our  ideas,  Ave  Avill  take  first  the 
house  of  an  official  of  the  Korean  bureaucracy ; and  Ave  Avill 
suppose  the  time  Aviuter,  that  Ave  niay  the  better  scan  the  outside 
before  examining  the  interior. 

A flight  of  two  or  three  stone  steps  leads  up  over  the  foun- 
dation to  the  house  proper,  ending  upon  a narrow  piazza,  or 


AKCHITECTURE. 


269 


ven'  wide  sill,  which  encircles  the  whole  building.  Upon  the 
upper  of  these  steps  stands  a row  of  shoes.  They  are  placed 
side  by  side,  and  the  toes  of  all  of  them  face  the  entrance. 
They  agree  most  suggestively  in  attitude,  though  otherwise 
quite  dissimilar  in  appearance.  They  irresistibly  recall  a set  of 
faithful  dogs  awaiting*  the  return  of  their  masters,  who  are,  at 
tliis  moment,  probably  tea-drinking  and  gossiping  within.  A- 
corps  of  servants,  soldiers,  etc.,  idle  about  outside ; but  they 
seem  not  half  so  expressive  of  life  as  the  mute  sentinels  on 
the  threshold.  Owing  to  the  cold,  many  of  the  apertures  are 
closed,  and  this  gives  a look  of  privacy  to  the  building.  It  is 
but  in  appearance,  however,  as  one  discovers  on  entering,  and 
is  wholly  alien  to  the  character  of  the  peojde.  Privacy,  as  we 
know  the  term,  does  not  exist,  and  dignity  is  sufficiently  pro- 
tected by  the  outer  approaches.  There  are  just  as  many  ser- 
vants standing  about  within  as  without,  Avith  all  the  sharper 
OA'es  and  ears  for  the  want  of  anything  to  emploA"  the  brain 
and  hands.  But  for  the  present  we  are  engaged  upon  the 
building. 

There  is  one  point,  architecturally,  about  it  worth  noticing 
and  admiring.  The  exterior  and  interior  corres])ond.  Instead 
of  several  rooms  sharing  happ}^-family-wise  the  same  roof,  and 
thus  ruining  to  a certain  extent  both  the  external  and  internal 
effects,  a single  room  occupies  the  house.  The  space  is  as  en- 
tire within  as  the  coverino*  is  one  Avithout.  Though  small,  it 
shares  this  trait  in  common  Avith  the  finest  architecture  that 
the  Avorld  has  produced,  — AA*ith  a Greek  temple  or  a Gothic 
cathedral ; and  there  is  a dignified  beauty  about  the  complete 
AA'hich  the  partial  or  conglomerate  iuA*ariably  misses. 

Originally,  perhaps,  this  one  building  may  haA*e  been  enough  ; 
but  in  course  of  time  wants  in  Korea,  as  elseAA’here,  multiplied, 
and  building  Avas  added  to  building.  At  present  a house  of  the 
better  class  is  not  one,  but  many.  But  the  original  type 


270 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


remains ; and  tlioiigli  on  the  inside,  room  seems  to  follow  room 
as  naturally  as  possible,  and  occasional  corridors  appear  to  be 
an  intrinsic  part  of  the  whole,  viewed  from  witliont  it  is  seen 
to  be  really  a collection  of  separate  but  connected  houses. 
Each  has  its  own  roof,  while  the  corridors  are  covered  by 
lower  roofs  under  the  eaves  of  tlie  first.  Then  each  of  these 
collections  is  again  repeated.  Courtyard  follows  courtyard  ; 
houses,  now  in  groups,  now  isolated,  interspersed  with  gar- 
dens, succeed  each  other  as  the  strairn’er  wanders  on  through 
gate  after  gate,  and  at  last  loses  himself  in  the  labyrinth  of 
dwellings. 

There  are  curious  laws  of  expenditure,  allied  to  sumptuary 
law,  touching  the  extent  to  which  this  adding  of  house  to  house 
may  be  carried.  No  man,  whatsoever  his  station,  is  allowed  to 
build  a house  of  over  one  hundred  rooms ; but  this  does  not 
mean  so  much  as  it  appears  to  do  at  first.  A room  is  reckoned 
at  four  feet  square,  or  sixteen  square  feet,  pointing  to  a still 
more  primitive  time  yet  in  the  construction  of  dwellings,  when 
so  small  a space  could  be  considered  as  the  unit.  By  another 
law  no  one  is  permitted  to  build  what  shall  cost  above  ten 
tliousand  “riang,”or  about  one  tliousand  dollars.  It  may  be 
mentioned  that  this  sum  represents,  for  the  wants  of  the  people 
and  the  power  of  money  to  buy,  at  least  what  a hundred  times 
tliat  amount  does  to  us.  Tliese  are  but  two  of  many  restric- 
tions by  which  tlie  common  people,  and  even  the  nobles,  are 
fettered  in  their  architectural  aspirations,  as  we  shall  see  when 
we  come  to  speak  of  the  palaces. 

Raised  upon  a stone  or  eartlien  pedestal,  the  house  itself  is 
built  entirely  of  wood  and  paper.  This  pedestal  is  for  other 
purposes  than  simply  to  lift  the  building  above  contact  with 
the  earth ; it  is  a species  of  large  furnace  for  warming  the  oc- 
cupants during  the  winter  months.  On  the  outside,  in  the 
middle  of  one  side  of  the  base,  which  is  rectangular,  burrows 


Till'.  I’Al.ACl':  OF  SUM  mi:  K 


ARCHITECTUKE. 


271 


an  out-of-door  fireplace.  It  is  called,  in  Korean,  “ the  moutli.” 
It  well  deserves  the  name  ; for  ordinarily  there  is  another  room, 
or  house,  in  the  form  of  a transverse  ell,  built  over  it,  Avhich 
converts  it  into  a cavernous  hole,  to  peep  into  which  suggests 
the  jaws  of  the  dragon  of  Korean  folk-lore.  Into  this  is  stuffed 
brushwood,  Avhich  is  then  lighted,  and  the  smoke  and  heated  air 
escape  into  a subterranean  labyrinth  which  honeycombs  the  en- 
tire foundation.  Accordins:  to  the  decree  of  costliness  of  the 
house,  this  is  constructed  in  different  ways.  There  are  three  sys- 
tems of  arrangement  of  the  flues.  In  the  first  a set  of  short  stone 
pillars,  a foot  or  so  high,  placed  symmetrically  at  intervals,  sup- 
])ort  a single  slab  of  stone,  covering  the  whole  area  of  the  room. 
As  the  stone  is  a very  good  retainer  of  heat,  it  would  be  incon- 
venient for  dwelling  purposes  if  left  bare,  becoming  too  liot  for 
comfort  when  the  fire  was  kindled.  Upon  it,  therefore,  is  put 
a layer  of  earth,  and  above  tliis  is  laid  an  oil-paper  floor.  Tlie 
single  slab  of  stone  I’enders  this  method  an  expensive  one ; but 
tlie  pillars  permit  of  a more  thorough  and  uniform  heating  than 
is  possible  by  the  other  ways.  In  the  second  arrangement  ribs 
of  earth  and  small  stones  run  lengthwise  from  front  to  back, 
disconnected  for  a short  distance  at  either  end  with  the  outside 
Avail  of  the  foundation.  Tlie  middle  one  is  perfectly  straight ; 
the  others  liaAm  a short  transA’erse  section  at  the  end  next  tlie 
OA’cn,  to  enable  them  the  better  to  catch  the  smoke  and  lead  it 
to  the  opposite  end  of  the  labyrinth.  The  continuity  of  the 
ribs  renders  the  use  of  a single  slab  unnecessary.  Its  place 
is  therefore  taken  by  a number  of  similar  slabs  of  less  size, 
and  by  earth  bound  together  liv  small  stones  scattered  irregu- 
larly through  it.  On  top  of  these  are  placed  the  same  protec- 
tive materials  as  in  the  first  case.  The  third  method  is  adapted 
for  a still  poorer  class  of  houses;  earth  takes  the  place  of  stone 
throughout,  and  the  ribs  are  less  carefully  made.  They  are  de- 
signed someAvhat  after  the  pattern  of  a pumpkin’s  bands,  Avhen 


272 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  JTUKNIXG  CALH. 


represented  on  a flat  surfoce ; starting  near  together,  and  then 
swelling  out  in  the  middle  of  their  path,  to  contract  again  to- 
ward the  farther  end.  Having  no  sharp  angles,  this  form  is 
])referable,  on  the  score  of  efficacy,  to  the  last. 

Having  sufficiently  meandered  througli  the  labyrinth,  the 
smoke,  pushed  by  what  succeeds,  makes  its  escape  ignomini- 
ously  through  a simple  hole  in  tlie  wall.  Houses  without 
chimneys,  and  Avitli  Avhat  takes  their  place  horizontal  instead 
of  vertical,  and  yet  warmed  and  suffering  rather  from  a super- 
abundance than  a Avant  of  heat,  are  a conception  as  ingenious 
as  it  is  to  us  })eculiar. 

The  idea  is  a good  one,  and  Avere  it  only  supplemented  by 
ventilation  the  system  Avould  be  admirable.  The  feet  are 
Avarmed  Avhile  tlie  head  is  kept  cool,  and  Avith  a constant  sup- 
})ly  of  fresh  air  nothing  could  be  more  healthy.  Unfortunately, 
the  room  aboA^e  is  no  better  than  a box,  in  Avhich  the  occupant 
is  sloAvly  roasted.  The  principle  suffers  also  from  the  disad- 
vantage of  being  a quarter  of  an  hour  behind  time.  The  room 
does  not  even  begin  to  get  Avarm  until  you  have  passed  through 
an  agonizing  interval  of  expectancy.  Then  it  takes  Avhat  seems 
forever  to  reach  a comfortable  temperature,  passes  this  brief 
second  of  happiness  before  you  have  had  time  to  realize  that 
it  has  attained  it,  and  continues  mounting  to  unknown  de- 
grees in  a truly  alarming  manner,  beyond  the  possibility  of 
control. 

The  institution  Avas  imported,  it  is  said,  some  hundred  and 
ffftA'  years  ago,  from  China ; but,  like  all  conveniences  or 
luxuries,  Avas  appropriated  solely  to  his  Majesty’s  use  for  the 
space  of  seventy  years  after  its  introduction.  Tlien,  for  some 
recondite  and  unprecedented  reason,  he  vouchsafed  its  general 
domestication  to  his  people.  It  is  matter  of  Avonder  that  he 
did  grant  its  use ; for  in  the  first  place,  they  had  lived  comfort- 
ably Avithout  it  for  centuries,  and  might  Avith  equal  reason  be 


ARCHITECTUEE. 


273 


considered  capable  of  continuing  to  do  so  for  centuries  to 
come,  and  in  the  second  place,  it  was  the  first  and  last  of  such 
royal  gifts.  It  was  given  perhaps  simply  because  it  was  im- 
ported ; his  native-born  architectural  privileges  he  has  never 
resigned,  as  we  shall  see  later  on. 

We  now  reach  at  last  the  building  itself  In  its  constmction 
ideas  taken  from  China  are  blended  with  native  practices  that 
have  survived  the  deluge  of  Chinese  customs. 

A house  of  the  highest  order  is  nothinnr  but  a wooden  frame- 

O O 

work,  — a roof  supported  upon  a few  Avooden  posts,  one  at  each 
corner  and  one  in  the  middle  of  each  side.  Eight  posts  — or 
more  after  the  same  plan,  if  the  building  be  large  — are  all  that 
is  really  fixed ; but  it  is  only  in  the  heat  of  summer  that  it  can 
be  seen  in  this  skeleton-like  condition.  In  winter  no  eye  would 
suspect  that  it  could  be  so  airy.  It  stands  to  all  appearance  a 
solid  structure ; but  a little  inspection  shows  its  sides  to  consist 
of  a series  of  folding  doors,  a pair  between  each  tAvo  posts.  The 
posts  are  plain ; but  the  outside  of  the  doors  is  veiy  prettily 
latticed,  and  the  effect  is  as  of  fine  ornamented  AvoodAvork. 
These  folding  doors  open  outAvard,  and  fi\sten  from  Avithin  by 
a ring  and  knob  arrangement.  So  far  they  resemble  ordinary 
doors.  But  they  possess  another  beauty  particularly  their  own. 
The  Avhole  affair,  doors  and  appurtenances  together,  takes  off, 
its  hinges  remaining  fixed  at  its  upper  end,  and  is  triced  up  to 
hooks  ou  the  ceiling,  AA'hen  the  heats  of  summer  make  the  air 
a Avelcome  visitor. 

Tliis  style  of  room  is  more  particularly  for  official  purposes 
and  entertainments  than  for  domestic  use.  All  places  designed 
for  festivity  are  so  constructed,  and  in  each  of  the  larger  or 
finer  compounds  are  one  or  tAvo  such  houses,  Avhich  correspond 
to  AvithdraAving-rooms  or  banqueting-halls. 

For  purpo.ses  of  habitation  a someAvhat  different  plan  is  fol- 
loAved.  Instead  of  continuous  doors,  the  sides  are  half  wall, 

18 


274 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


half  door,  the  Avails  being  wooden,  or  in  the  poorer  houses 
made  of  mud.  In  these  buildings  Ave  have  an  elaborate  sys- 
tem of  threefold  aperture-closers,  — a species  of  three  skins,  only 
that  they  are  for  consecutive,  not  simultaneous  use.  The  outer 
is  the  folding  door  above-mentioned ; the  other  tAvo  are  a 
couple  of  pairs  of  sliding  panels,  — the  survivors  in  Korea  of 
the  once  common  sliding  screens,  such  as  are  used  to-day  in 
Japan.  One  of  the  pairs  is  covered  Avith  dark-green  paper,  and 
is  for  night  use ; the  other  is  of  the  natural  yelloAvish  color  of 
the  oil-paper,  and  is  used  by  day.  When  not  Avanted,  they  slide 
back  into  grooves  inside  the  Avail,  Avhence  they  are  pulled  out 
again  by  ribbons  fastened  near  the  middle  of  the  outer  edge. 
All  screens  of  this  sort,  Avhether  in  houses  or  palanquins,  are 
provided,  unlike  the  Japanese,  Avith  these  conveniences  for 
tying  the  tAvo  halves  of  each  pair  together  and  thus  enabling 
easier  adjustment.  The  Japanese  screens,  being  much  larger 
and  heavier,  do  not  need  it. 

The  interior,  the  lining,  of  the  house  is  paper,  oil-paper, — 
paper  on  the  six  sides  by  Avhich  the  rectangular  space  is 
bounded.  Paper  coA’ers  the  ceiling,  lines  the  Avails,  spreads 
the  floor.  As  you  sit  in  your  room,  your  eye  falls  upon  noth- 
ing but  paper;  and  the  very  light  that  enables  you  to  see  any- 
thing at  all  sifts  in  through  the  same  material.  It  is  a soft, 
diffused  light,  but  not  a faint  one ; it  is  only  from  the  absence 
of  sharp  contrasts  that  you  Avould  knoAV  that  it  Avas  not  glass 
that  gave  it  you.  Burled,  cut  off  from  the  outer  Avorld,  you 
forget  that  there  is  such  a thing  as  a landscape  Avithout.  You 
do  not  miss  it.  Only  Avhen  you  do  at  last  push  aside  the 
screens,  it  comes  upon  you  like  a neAV  sensation,  instead  of 
getting  someAvhat  dulled  by  being  continuously  seen  as  a 
picture  framed  by  the  AvindoAv  jambs. 

There  is  another  charm  about  these  paper  AvindoAvs  Avhich 
no  transparent  glass,  hoAvever  pure,  could  ever  give. 


AECHITECTUKE. 


275 


Of  the  spells  whicli  Nature  weaves  around  us  to  conjure  up 
the  vanished  past,  none  are  more  potent  than  the  effects  of 
lig-ht.  We  call  it  sometimes  atmosphere,  and  truly;  for  it  is 
this  ever-chaug’ing  gauzy  envelope  which  surrounds  us,  that 
ting-es  to  us  a lig-ht  which  else  had  been  invariable.  Still,  the 
atmosphere  is  but  the  means  to  color  the  light,  and  anything 
else  that  colored  it  could  play  the  same  role.  Just  as  truly 
as  it  is  light  that  enables  us  to  distinguish  anything  at  all,  so 
true  is  it  that  it  is  the  quality  of  the  light  that  gives  to  a land- 
scape its  own  peculiar  tone  of  feeling.  Objects  are  facts ; but 
it  is  the  medium  through  which  we  see  that  gives  us  our  fan- 
cies,  and  it  is  by  our  fancies,  not  our  facts,  generally  that  we 
remember.  Every  now  and  then,  at  the  promptings  of  her 
own  caprice.  Nature  grants  us  these  vistas  of  waking  dream- 
land. Let  but  the  light  which  falls  upon  a landscajie  recall 
some  other  scene,  be  the  objects  themselves  ever  so  dissimilar, 
and  straightway  those  objects  fade  away  before  the  scene  which 
memory  has  conjured  up. 

In  a Korean  house  man  has  made  it  possible  to  summon 
such  visions  at  will.  He  hns  but  to  choose  the  paper  of  his 
screens.  According  to  the  degree  in  which  it  has  been  steejied 
in  oil,  whether  more  or  less,  will  it  be  yellower  or  whiter,  and 
flood  the  room  with  corresponding  light ; and  it  is  singular  to 
notice  how  the  effect  of  what  we  commonly  call  atmosphere, 
thus  artificially  produced,  lies  soleh’  in  color. 

In  one  of  the  rooms  of  my  house  there  were  three  windows. 
The  first  was  fitted  Avith  screens  Avhose  paper  Avas  of  a pale 
AA-hite ; and  as  I sat  there  of  a morning,  AvithdraAvn  as  effec- 
tualh'  from  the  outside  Avorld  and  all  its  sensations  as  though 
I had  been  thousands  of  miles  aAvay,  the  light  of  a Avinter’s  day 
shone  on  all  around.  I seemed  to  see  the  snoAA’-coA-ered  land- 
scape, the  clear  bright  blue  aboA’e;  I could  almost  feel  the  crisp, 
cold  air;  and  A*et  there  Avas  nothing  but  common  light  falling 


276 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOEXIXG  CALH. 


tlirough  a bit  of  translucent  jDaper,  and  I was  as  warm  as  I 
conld  wish. 

i\[y  eyes  wandered  to  another  corner,  and  fell  upon  the  light 
from  a second  screen.  Its  color  was  a pale  yellow,  and  through 
this  sifted  in  the  mellow  glow  of  a summer’s  afternoon.  All  at 
once  became  languid  and  drowsy  and  warm.  Nature  seemed  to 
be  taking  her  mid-year  siesta.  I felt  the  universal  hash  of  re- 
pose, and  there  rose  before  me  the  rich  fulness  of  tlie  vear  in 
its  prime.  It  required  an  effort  to  realize  that  without,  the 
thermometer  stood  at  ten  above  our  zero,  and  that  the  year 
mv  senses  were  showing  me  had  not  vet  been  born. 

gaze  wandered  again,  and  I was  looking  at  the  third,' 
where  a deeper  tint  struggled  through  the  latticed  screens.  It 
fell  on  fomiliar  objects  like  the  flush  of  parting  day.  The  sun 
seemed  to  be  smiling  me  adieu.  Bathed  in  the  warm  glow, 
I watched  the  glory  in  the  west,  expecting  it  momentarily  to 
fade  away,  when  — I accidentally  turned  my  head,  and,  like 
the  inconsequence  of  a dream,  it  all  vanished,  and  I was  sitting 
in  my  room  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  the  sport  of  Korean 
paper. 

So  much  for  the  setting  of  the  interior.  As  for  furniture 
there  is  none.  There  are  a few  decorations,  — a screen  or  some 
hanging  pictures,  — and  occasionally  the  side  of  a room  or  the 
panel  of  some  interior  sliding-door  will  be  painted  in  scenes. 
In  one  corner  on  the  floor  are  wadded  quilts,  made  of  silk 
or  cotton,  an  inch  or  two  thick,  upon  which  the  occupant  or 
his  guests  sit.  At  meal-times  small  tables,  a foot  high  and  a 
little  more  than  a foot  square,  are  brought  in,  one  for  each 
person,  and  removed  again,  the  repast  over.  In  each  house 
there  is  usually  a large  bureau,  with  three  or  four  cupboards, 
closed  by  doors  that  fold  outward.  It  is  the  only  thing  which 
can  be  in  any  sense  construed  as  furnishing;  and  in  the  manu- 
facture of  this  one  article,  thanks  perhaps  to  a concentration 


ARCHITECTURE. 


277 


of  energy,  the  Koreans  excel.  The  bureau  is  made  of  wood 
resembling  polished  mahogany,  and  studded  with  brass  around 
the  locks  and  the  corners.  A very  favorite  form  for  these 
brasses  is  a butterfly.  Though  Korea  resembles  the  insect  in 
shape,  I was  unable  to  discover  an}-  subtile  cause  for  the  pat- 
tern, and  was  invariably  told  that  it  Avas  chosen  simply  for  its 
natural  beauty.  In  winter  a brazier  of  live  charcoal  may, 
though  by  no  means  always  does,  complete  the  picture. 

And  now  we  come  to  that  part  of  the  building  in  which 
lies  its  greatest  claim  to  beauty,  — the  roof.  It  is  unique.  Ko 
dome,  no  minaret,  no  steeple  that  I have  ever  belield,  is,  to 
my  eyes,  so  simply  beautiful.  It  is  not  in  its  ornament ; for 
though  it  possesses  its  share  of  decoration,  this  rather  takes 
aAvay  than  adds.  The  charm  lies  in  its  grace  of  form.  I 
had  almost  said  Arcadian  shape ; for  I mean  it  in  the  sense, 
as  I hope  to  show  it  may  be  considered,  of  being  in  some  sort 
born  of  Nature. 

Two  corresponding  curves,  concave  tOAvard  the  sk}',  fall 
aAvay  on  either  hand  from  the  central  ridgepole.  The  descent 
is  at  first  abrupt,  but  groAvs  less  and  less  so  till  it  ends  at  the 
eaves.  In  small  houses  the  roof  is  single;  but  in  larger  ones 
there  are  many  slopes,  of  different  degrees  of  curvature,  that 
OA’erlap  and  lie  like  festoons  in  tiles,  one  above  another.  Noav, 
it  is  in  its  concavity  that  the  roof  differs  from  most  architectural 
coverings.  Roofs,  as  Ave  knoAv  them,  are  commonly  built  up  of 
straight  lines.  When  they  are  cuiwed  at  all,  as  in  domes  and 
cupolas,  the  cuiwes  are  convex  Avithout.  That  they  are  effec- 
tiA^e,  is  true ; that  they  suggest  the  Avork  they  perform,  is  none 
the  less  so.  The  dome  is  impressive,  but  it  looks  as  if  it  had 
been  built  for  its  purpose.  It  suggests,  not  a roof  proper,  but 
something  else.  The  dome  is  to  bridge  over  a space  Avithin, 
not  to  protect  Avithout;  and  this  5"Ou  feel.  The  feeling  is  a 
species  of  intellectual  sense-perception  of  the  harmonies  of 


278 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


physics.  The  dome  fulfils  what  the  mind  insensibly  demands 
of  it  in  its  position.  But  it  does  not  satisfy  what  we  crave  in 
a roof  Properly  considered,  I think  that  everything  natural 
is  beautiful.  Just  as  dirt  has  been  well  defined  to  be  matter 
out  of  place,  so  ugliness  might  be  called  one  of  Nature’s  fail- 
ures. It  is  only  when  a thing  has  been  denied  what  it  was 
meant  to  possess,  that  it  can  truly  be  spoken  of  as  ugly.  The 
desert  is  not  ugly,  though  it  may  wholly  lack  what  we  admire 
in  a mountain.  Now  this  applies  to  a certain  extent  to  archi- 
tecture, We  always  look  through  the  form  to  the  intent;  and 
therefore  to  me  the  most  beautiful  roofs,  as  roofs,  are  these 
sloping  watersheds  of  the  far-East.  This  last  expression  is 
important,  for  it  is  in  this  light  that  we  should  regard  them. 
Roofs  are  to  shed  the  rain  and  keep  off  the  sun.  For  the  latter 
purpose  curves  and  straight  lines  are  equally  effective ; but  for 
the  former  it  can  be  shown  that  for  rain  falling  upon  the  ridge- 
pole, the  curves  necessary  to  shed  it  the  quickest  or  with  the 
least  wear  and  tear  are  very  like  what  we  have  before  us;  and 
though  the  rain  is  not  so  obliging  as  to  fall  only  where  it  will 
produce  tlie  simplest  problem,  on  the  ridgepole,  the  eye  assumes 
instinctively  that  it  does. 

Then  there  is  another  way  of  looking  at  it.  Any  flexible 
material,  such  as  originally  would  be  found  in  the  tent,  sus- 
pended at  the  top  and  eaves,  would  hang  somewhat  after  the 
fashion  of  the  present  roof ; and  it  has  been  suggested  that  Ave 
have  here  a sort  of  crystallization  of  Avhat  was  mobile,  if  we  may 
say  so,  in  primeval  times.  This  is  no  doubt  its  genealogy. 

Houses  of  the  lower  class  are  covered  with  thatch ; in  the 
higher,  the  roof  is  made  of  scroll  tiles.  These  tiles  are  so 
named  from  being  of  the  form  of  half-unrolled  scrolls.  They 
are  made  of  burnt  clay,  and  their  color  is  a bluish  brown. 
They  are  set  on  a layer  of  black  mud,  rich  in  seeds ; and  as, 
once  set,  they  are  never  disturbed  till  age  and  decay  render 


ARCHITECTUEE. 


279 


further  living  under  them  an  impossibility,  the  seeds  thrive 
tliere  as  they  would  in  the  garden  beneath.  Even  under  the 
tiles  the  seeds  feel  the  warmth,  and  in  some  subtile  manner 
they  find  loopholes  to  escape  up  into  the  light ; and  thus  they 
come  to  cover  the  roofs  with  a growth  of  grass,  — a growth 
which  in  summer  decks  the  sober  tiles  with  brilliant  spots  of 
color  from  its  flowers,  and  even  in  winter  leaves  them  not 
wholly  bare,  for  the  clinging  of  the  old  stems  and  stalks  Avhich 
the  snow  itself  cannot  dislodge. 


280 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XXVL 

LANDSCAPE  GARDENING. 

FAR-EASTERX  art  clraAvs  its  inspiration  from  Xatnre,  not 
from  man.  It  tlms  stands,  in  the  objects  of  its  endeavor, 
in  striking-  contrast  to  what  has  ever  been  the  main  admiration 
and  study  of  our  owm,  the  human  figure.  A flower,  a face,  — 
matter  as  it  affects  mind,  mind  as  it  affects  matter,  — from  such 
opposite  sources  spring  the  two.  Art,  or  the  desire  to  perpetu- 
ate and  reproduce  the  emotions,  must  of  course  depend  upon 
the  character  of  tliose  emotions.  Now,  to  a far-Oriental  Nature 
is  more  suggestive  and  man  less  so  tlian  with  us  for  two  i-ea- 
sons, — the  greater  impersonality  of  .the  race  and  the  lower 
position  of  woman.  Both  physically  and  mentally  woman 
has  never  awakened  them  to  feeling’.  They  have  neither  ad- 
mired her  form,  nor  has  she  been  suggestive  of  fancy.  That 
the  first  of  these  neglects  is  not  due  to  any  false  modesty  is 
evident  at  once  from  the  condition  of  things  in  Japan,  whore 
the  female  form  is  more  exposed  and  less  displayed  than  in  any 
other  part  of  the  world  on  the  same  parallel  of  latitude.  It  is 
simply  that  her  figure  never  has  struck  them  as  so  very  beau- 
tiful. On  the  other  hand,  mentally  they  have  never  given  her 
attention  enough  to  learn  to  love  her. 

What  their  neglect  of  woman  has  accomplished  directly, 
impersonality  has  no  less  potently  brought  about  indirectly. 
While  the  one  took  away  what  is  to  us  a stimulus,  the  other 


LANDSCAPE  GAEDENING. 


281 


helped  tliem  the  more  easily  and  completely  to  turn  to  Nature 
and  find  in  her  the  satisfying-  of  that  instinctive  craving  to 
admire  and  to  love. 

But  I do  not  purpose  here  to  attempt  an  essay  on  Japanese 
or  Korean  art.  The  subject  is  far  too  vast  and  far  too  inter 
esting  to  be  hastily  treated,  and  too  far-Eastern  to  be  at  once 
appreciated.  I would  but  point  out  here  certain  curious  speci- 
mens of  one  form  of  it,  — landscape  gardening.  One  of  the 
most  remarkable  of  these  specimens  is  the  lotus  pond,  a sort  of 
water-garden. 

To  a people  who  draw  their  inspiration  to  poesy  not  from 
the  depths  of  woman’s  eyes,  but  from  the  smile  that  lies  on  the 
face  of  Nature,  it  is  specially  appropriate  that  water  should  seem 
the  crowning  glory  of  all  scenery.  No  wonder  that,  above 
other  men,  they  feel  the  influence  Avhich  we  attempt  to  express 
in  the  saying  that  “ water  is  to  a landscape  Avhat  e}  es  are  to  a 
face.”  For  to  them  the  words  convey  no  mere  analogy;  they 
represent  as  direct  an  effect  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other. 
The  race  is  in  love  with  Nature ; and  what  is  more  like  human 
glances  than  the  sparkle  of  the  brook  or  the  ever-varying  ex- 
pression on  the  surffice  of  a pond  ? Is  there  not  in  some  still, 
dark  bit  of  Avater  the  same  mysterious  fascination  the  French 
find  in  les  yeiix  voiUes  (Vane  femme  ; and  do  not  both,  as  cpies- 
tioning  their  secrets  you  peer  into  their  depths,  yield  you 
back,  mockingly,  but  an  image  of  yourself? 

Far-Orientals  not  only  court  Nature  as  she  deigns  to  show 
herself  to  them  ; they  espouse  her,  and  make  her  their  OAvn. 
Landscape  gardening  in  the  far-East  is  carried,  in  ordinary 
every-day  routine,  to  a perfection  of  beaut}"  quite  undreamt  of 
Avith  us.  The  fame  of  Japan  in  this  respect  has  gone  through- 
out the  Avorld ; and  though  to  such  a point  of  excellence  Korea 
cannot  attain,  she  still  is  imbued  Avith  the  same  spirit,  and  can 
shoAv  of  the  art  much  that  is  to  us  unknoAvn.  Man  and  Nature 


282 


THE  LAPS'D  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


luive  conspired  to  prevent  lier  full  development.  A colder 
climate,  a more  killing  winter,  have  not  been  without  their 
effect ; and  man  has  not  enjoyed  so  freely  the  opportunities 
of  liberty  in  the  peninsula  as  across  the  straits.  The  in- 
ducement among  the  common  people  to  labor  for  beauty  is 
wanting,  for  what  they  ci’eate  may  not  remain  their  own ; 
yet  even  here  a kindred  desire  prompts  to  expression,  though 
the  forms  it  has  chosen  have  differed  from  those  of  its  island 
neighbor. 

One  variety  of  what  we  find  in  Korea  might,  without  impro- 
priety, be  called  waterscape  gardening.  It  is  so  pre-eminently 
a gardening  in  which  land  is  second  in  effect.  In  Ja])an  a 
pond,  where  possible,  is  the  central  attraction ; but  in  Korea 
it  is  the  all  in  all.  The  grounds,  if  narrow  strips  deserve  such 
a name,  are  only  settings  to  the  picture. 

The  garden,  then,  is  a pond,  and  it  is  known  by  the  name 
of  the  lotus  pond ; for  so  universal  is  the  cultivation  of  the 
lotus  in  these  artificial  waters  that  it  has  given  them  their  dis- 
tinctive name.  Even  where,  for  some  reason,  it  is  not  grown, 
it  is  assumed  to  exist;  and  the  pond  is  called  the  lotus  pond 
just  the  same. 

The  pond  may  be  of  any  shape,  though  approximating  gen- 
erally to  the  form  of  a circle.  It  is  of  all  sizes,  from  a little 
basin  to  a broad  sheet  of  water.  Sometimes  its  banks  are  only 
what  still  remains  of  bordering  earth ; sometimes  they  are  en- 
cased in  stone  settings,  layer  upon  layer,  of  large  granite  blocks. 
But  always,  if  the  pond  be  of  any  size  at  all,  there  stands  in 
its  centre  a singular  island.  This  islet  is  perfectly  circular,  and 
in  the  middle  of  it  there  rises  a solitary  tree.  In  finish  it  is 
treated  like  the  borders  of  the  pond,  — left  plain  where  they  are 
plain,  stone-capped  if  they  are  so.  The  tree  is  usually  a fine 
old  specimen  of  a plant,  and  is  deciduous,  not  evergreen.  Its 
branches  spread  out  beyond  the  confines  of  its  little  home,  and 


LANDSCAPE  GAEDENING. 


283 


overhang  the  water.  It  is  a pretty  sight,  --  the  lone  tree  on 
the  round  islet ; but  this,  on  the  first  look,  is  lost  sight  of,  for 
the  way  its  singular  symmetry  piques  the  curiosit}^  It  has  a 
preternaturally  artificial  effect.  It  looks  like  one  of  the  trees 
from  a child’s  Noah’s  ark.  It  utterly  despises  apparently  the 
ars  ceJare  artou, — the  attempt  to  deceive  you  into  even  a mo- 
mentary belief  that  it  grew  there  of  itself ; and  it  courts  and 
wins  attention  from  its  very  effronteiy.  “What  can  it  mean  I” 
is  a question  you  instinctively  ask  of  yourself  and  then  of 
others. 

Use,  not  beauty,  is  tlie  cause  of  its  being.  The  idea  is  no 
quaint  conceit ; and  there  are  good  reasons,  though  not  artistic 
ones,  for  its  having  taken  precisely  the  form  it  has.  This  is 
its  raison  d'etre. 

To  those  enjoyable  qualities,  the  gift  of  Nature,  which  the 
Korean  finds  in  the  little  lake,  he  has  added  the  attraction  of 
fishing.  For  after  the  main  fact  that  it  exists,  — its  own  great- 
est charm,  — the  chief  attribute  of  the  pond  is  tliat  it  is  a fish- 
pond. It  is  profusely  stocked  witli  carp  for  the  pleasure  of  the 
noble  fisherman  to  whom  the  pond  belongs,  — not,  indeed,  as 
pets  to  be  fed,  but  as  game  to  be  eaten.  Now,  to  angle  for 
these  from  the  bank  is  a pastime  always  possible,  of  course  ; 
but  such  is  not  to  Korean  ideas  the  height  of  enjo}unent  of 
the  sport.  To  remain  upon  the  outskirts  savors,  to  their  think- 
ing, of  the  stranger,  not  of  the  lord  and  master  of  the  place. 
To  be  himself  at  the  veiy  centre  of  the  whole,  this  to  him  is 
the  acme  of  dignified  happiness.  To  afford  him,  therefore,  a 
spot  in  the  middle  where  to  sit,  he  made  the  island ; and  to 
protect  him  from  the  sun  while  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  van- 
tage-ground, he  planted  the  tree.  Sheltered,  shaded,  one  side 
is  as  much  to  be  desired  as  another ; and  so  the  necessity  for 
S}’mmetry  made  of  the  seat  a circle.  I know  of  no  trait  more 
deliciously  Eastern  than  is  typified  by  this  act,  — the  coercing 


284 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


of  Nature  to  furnish  you  botli  amusement  and.  the  comfort 
wherewith  fully  to  a])preciate  it  at  the  same  time. 

Hither,  of  a hot,  still  summer  afternoon,  the  Korean  betakes 
himself,  with  his  rod  and  books,  and  seats  himself  upon  the 
short  g-rass  under  the  friendly  shade  of  the  chestnut-tree.  Not 
without  difficulty  has  a servant  forced  his  skiff  through  the 
thick  water-growth  which  in  places  has  seemingly  transformed 
into  land  the  glass}"  surface  of  the  lake ; for  it  is  the  flowering 
season  of  the  lotus.  Where  in  the  spring  only  the  broad  dark- 
green  leaves  floated  lazily  upon  the  surface  with  just  enough  of 
vitality  to  float  and  nothing  more,  mirroring  the  languor  of  the 
warm  spring  air,  now"  the  spot  is  choked  by  the  wanton  luxu- 
riance of  vegetation.  Other  leaves,  unlike  the  former,  sturd}", 
thick,  stand  erect  on  their  tall  stems  two  feet  above  the  water’s 
level,  hustling  one  another  for  the  crowd  and  holding  in  jealous 
embrace  the  stately  solitary  flowers.  Away  down  among  the 
labyrinth  of  pillars,  the  stems  that  lie  hid  in  the  depths  of  the 
water,  swim  about  the  lazy  carp,  rising  every  now  and  then, 
where  the  plants  permit  the  pond  to  see  the  sunlight,  to  snatch 
with  a gurgle  some  unwary  insect  that,  oblivious  to  fate,  has 
been  thoughtlessly  skimming  the  water’s  edge.  A drowsy  heat 
])ervades  the  motionless  air,  the  leaves  of  the  tree  forget  to 
rustle,  and  the  man  himself  is  as  motionless  as  they.  There  he 
sits  in  quiet  contemplation,  a mummy  in  meditation.  Nothing 
breaks  in  upon  his  long  day-dream  save  wlien,  for  a brief  mo- 
ment, a fish  after  innumerable  nibbles,  which  were  too  lazy  to 
disturb  his  reverie,  at  last  insists  upon  being  caught. 

To  the  fisherman,  at  least,  it  is  a dream  of  peace,  and  the 
lotus  is  the  barrier  that  shuts  out  for  him  the  world.  It  mat- 
ters not  to  him  whether  his  pond  be  large  or  tin}-,  or  that  night, 
as  it  falls,  Avill  close  his  communion  with  Nature  and  drive  him 
once  more  to  intercourse  with  man.  To  him,  unlike  Kant,  time 
and  space  are  not  forms  of  consciousness. 


LANDSCAPE  GAEDENING. 


285 


Another  very  striking  peculiarity  of  Korean  landscape  gar- 
dening is  the  rock-work.  In  every  well-ordered  garden  are  to 
he  seen  certain  curious-looking  rocks,  from  three  to  five  feet 
high,  set  up  on  end.  They  are  either  planted  in  the  ground, 
or  else  they  rest  upon  flat  slabs  of  polished  stone.  The  ma- 
terial of  which  the  rocks  consist  is  not  over-hard,  for  it  has 
been  honey-combed,  evideaitly  by  the  action  of  water,  into  the 
most  fantastic  shapes.  From  these  shapes  it  is  at  once  evident 
that  the  rocks  were  not  indigenous  where  they  are  at  present 
found,  even  in  those  instances  where  no  pedestal  betrays  the 
handiwork  of  man  They  suggest  at  first,  from  their  dignified 
position,  some  religious  intent ; but  this  instinctive  tribute  to 
their  sanctity  is  a misconception.  They  are  put  up  simply  for 
purposes  of  ornament.  Accustomed  as  the  traveller  gets  to 
finding  religion  the  key  to  the  mystery  of  all  strange  sights  in 
out-of-the-way  lands,  it  is  no  wonder  that  in  a land  Avithout  a 
religion  he  should  be  constantly  the  dupe  of  his  own  acquired 
sagacity. 

The  far-Eastern  idea  of  beauty  has  in  it  a little  of  the 
fantastic.  In  many  of  its  expressions  there  is  a touch  of  the 
odd,  not  to  say  the  Aveird.  This  is  Avell  exemplified  in  these 
rock-forms.  To  our  eyes  they  are  more  grotesque  than  beauti- 
ful. If  such  expression  Avere  possible,  they  might  be  spoken  of 
as  a mass  of  holes  and  hollows,  — cup-shaped  holes  and  per- 
forated holloAvs  like  the  centre  of  an  anchor-ring,  — such  ef- 
fects as  the  AA’hirls  of  running  Avater  invariably  produce ; and 
though  in  detail  they  are  made  up  of  cui’A'es,  the  effect  of  the 
Avhole  is  surprisingly  angular,  — an  amusing  instance  of  the 
Avhole  being  something  quite  different  from  the  sum  of  its 
parts. 

One  of  the  commonest  of  the  foreign  criticisms  upon  far- 
Eastern  art  is  to  say  that  it  is  conventional.  It  is  difficult  to 
fix  exactly  what  is  meant  by  this.  If  by  conventional  is  meant 


286 


THE  LAJs^D  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


tlmt  the  ideas  typified  by  art  are  few  in  number,  such  must 
necessarily  be  the  fact  from  the  nature  of  the  case.  Art  there 
having  its  mainsprings  wholly  in  Nature,  and  not  at  all  or  very 
sparingly  in  Inimanity,  that  inexhaustible  treasure-house  to  us, 
the  actions  of  men,  is  by  them  unopened.  Stijets  de  (jcnre  are  of 
the  most  limited  description,  and  even  when  introduced  at  all 
are  not  considered  the  highest  form  of  art.  Nor  are  what  are 
there  delineated  worthy  such  a position ; for  the  truly  artistic, 
or  I may  better  say  the  most  artistic,  — for  all,  even  the  hum- 
blest, are  beautiful  in  some  way,  — the  most  artistic  then  of  the 
aspects  of  humanity  are  by  them  passed  by,  ignored,  or  what  is 
worse,  unknown.  Nature  alone  is  studied  and  loved.  This  at 
once  limits  art,  which  is  the  expression  of  feeling,  to  what  each 
man  can  see  in  Nature ; and  such  feelings  must  be  expressed  in 
her  own  terms.  These  two  factors  reacting  upon  each  other 
leave  but  a limited  range  of  symbols,  so  to  speak.  But  if  by 
conventional  is  meant  — and  from  the  explanations  made  on 
the  subject  it  would  seem  is  meant  — an  artificial  method  of 
representation,  then  the  remark  is  simply  false.  It  is  however 
])ardonable,  because  on  the  surface  plausible ; and  the  only  rea- 
son why  it  continues  to  be  made,  is  that  the  men  who  make  it 
have  never  compared  their  statements  with  the  fiicts.  Far  from 
being  artificial,  far-Eastern  art  is  emphatically  natural.  The 
reason  that  it  does  not  so  appear  to  us  at  first,  is  due  to  two 
causes.  The  first  is  very  simple,  — an  absence  with  us  of  what 
the  far-Oriental  sees  around  him  at  home.  A picture  of  snow- 
peaks  would  undoubted!}"  appear  conventional,  in  the  sense 
used  above,  to  a man  who  had  dwelt  all  his  life  on  the  plains, 
and  never  heard  of  such  things  as  white-headed  mountains. 
The  second  cause  is  that  certain  very  salient  features  of  his 
landscapes  have  engrossed  the  far-Oriental  attention,  to  the 
partial  neglect  of  other  less  striking  but  perhaps  even  more 


common  scenes. 


LANDSCAPE  GAEDEXIXG. 


287 


Every  traveller  knows  the  effect  of  this  in  other  thing-s 
beside  art.  Narrators  insensibh^  if  not  on  purpose,  pick  ont 
the  salient  points  of  any  land,  to  give  an  idea  of  it  to  those 
to  whom  it  is  an  undiscovered  country.  The  result  is,  that  on 
acquaintance  no  country  seems  so  odd  as  imagination,  fed 
on  a few  startling  facts,  has  pictured  it  to  be ; and  yet,  for 
all  that,  the  facts  may  be  perfect!}'  true.  Now,  what  we  do 
to  give  others  an  idea  of  foreign  lands,  the  far-Oriental  does 
to  give  himself  an  idea  of  his  own.  His  art,  by  reason  of 
this  strong  simplicity,  is  all  the  higher  art. 

Now,  the  rock-forms  are  a very  good  instance  of  such 
wrongly  imputed  conventionality.  They  are  continually  intro- 
duced into  Korean  painting.  They  are  there  so  grotesque- 
looking  as  to  seem  impossible,  and  in  hast}'  sketches  they  not 
infrequently  suggest  to  an  unaccustomed  eye  an  indiscriminate 
conglomerate  of  brush  strokes ; but  it  is  not  in  the  painting, 
but  in  nature,  that  the  strangeness  lies.  The  effect  differs  in 
the  two  only  inasmuch  as  it  is  always  a necessity  in  art  to 
change  in  order  trnh'  to  ])ortray. 

Another  instance  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  gnarled, 
scraggy,  weird  far-Eastern  pine-tree.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
striking  and,  when  you  become  used  to  it,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  objects  in  their  scenery.  In  its  bark  it  reminds  you 
of  the  yellow  pine  of  California,  and  is  probably  a closel}'  re- 
lated species,  though  about  this  I cannot  pretend  to  speak 
antlioritatively.  Tlie  yellow  pine  is  familiarly  known,  from 
the  peculiarity  of  its  bark,  as  the  alligator  pine, — a name  which 
is  almost  unpleasantly  happy.  The  bark  of  the  far-Eastern  spe- 
cies is  somewhat  the  same  in  form,  but  in  color  is  deeper,  — of 
a tine  bronze.  But  this  is  the  least  of  the  tree’s  peculiarities. 
It  is  in  its  branches  that  it  is  especially  queer.  Possessed 
usually  of  but  few  of  these,  it  shoots  them  out,  regardless  of 
their  scanty,  poverty-struck  appearance,  Avith  the  most  reckless 


288 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


disregard  of  direction.  Sometimes  they  grow  up,  sometimes 
down,  and  at  all  angles  between  the  two,  never  hesitating  for 
a moment  to  change  their  previous  direction  when  a foncy 
seizes  them.  The  result  is,  that  simply  to  say  they  are  utterly 
without  grace  Avonld  be,  by  implication,  to  praise  them  for 
beauty  of  form.  They  are  simply  impossible  for  eccentricity. 
This  is  precisely  what  the  foreign  critics  say  of  their  faithful 
portraiture.  One  of  the  great  occasions  for  stamping  Japanese 
painting  as  conventional  has  been  this  very  tree.  We  see  it 
constantly  in  their  art,  and  we  refuse  to  believe  it  aught  but  a 
caricature  until  our  own  eyes  have  shown  us  the  original,  — 
odder,  if  anything,  than  the  copy. 

To  take  one  more  example.  The  crags  with  the  mist 
shrouding  their  bases,  which  Ave  so  commonly  meet  Avith  in 
their  paintings,  are  at  first  supposed  to  exist  ouly  in  the  fertile 
imaefinations  of  the  artists.  Not  in  the  least.  On  a favora- 
bly  misty  morning  just  such  effects  can  be  seen  by  him  avIio 
chooses  to  go  out  and  look. 

All  this  has  tended  to  teach  the  Chinese,  Japanese,  and 
Koreans  that  the  odd  forms  a great  part  of  the  beautiful ; so 
Avhen  they  undertake  to  make  scenery  for  themselves,  they 
copy  the  idea. 


THE  PALACES. 


289 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  PALACES. 

IT  was  a briglit,  M'arm  winter’s  clay,  — one  of  tliose  days 
Avlien  we  realize  how  true  it  is  that  we  pay  dearly  for 
anything  out  of  season,  weather  included  ; for  the  very  heav- 
enly character  of  everything  overhead  caused  it  to  become  all 
the  more  earthly  {anglice,  muddy)  underfoot.  A prey  to  the 
painful  contrast  between  the  state  of  my  feelings  and  of  my 
feet,  I passed  up  between  the  two  stone  lions  that  guard  the 
entrance  to  the  Old  Palace  in  Soul.  These  two  great  beasts 
are  imposing  granite  monuments,  seated  on  huge  pedestals  of 
like  material.  They  are  called  Chinese  lions  rather  by  cour- 
tesy than  appearance,  for  they  are  an  imported  bit  of  dignity. 
They  belonged,  in  idea,  originally  to  China ; but  the  expression 
of  the  idea  was  so  happy  that  Japan  in  her  turn  copied  them 
from  Korea,  and  in  so  doing,  called  them  Korean  dogs,  show- 
ing how  little  faith  is  to  be  put  in  their  implied  resemblance  to 
any  particular  animal.  Besides,  there  never  Avere  any  lions  in 
China.  Their  personalities  are  undoubtedly  more  useful  than 
distinctive.  They  are  placed  in  their  present  position  to  scan 
all  comers,  and  devour  such  as  are  wickedly  disposed.  They 
evidently  knew  their  business,  for  they  suffered  me  to  pass. 

Once,  safely  through  this  test  of  moral  character,  I Avas  met 
by  one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Foreign  Office,  avIio  had  kindly 
proposed  to  shoAV  me  the  Old  Palace.  He  Avas  a tall,  gaunt 

19 


290 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  AlOENING  CALH. 


man,  and  strongly  attached  to  a certain  Korean  official  fashion, 
— the  wearing  of  huge,  round-eyed  spectacles,  set  with  plain 
glass  in  lieu  of  lenses.  The  fact  that  they  impeded  his  vision, 
he  cheerfully  suffered  for  the  sake  of  the  imposing  effect  they 
produced ; and  he  only  took  them  off  in  those  odd  moments 
Avhen  he  preferred  to  see  rather  than  be  seen.  He  now  ordered 
one  of  the  three  doors  of  the  outer  gateway  to  be  swung  open, 
and  we  entered.  We  passed  under  the  right-hand  arch  ; the 
approach  of  state  would  have  lain  through  the  central  one. 
But  occasions  of  state  have,  for  tlie  present,  passed  away  from 
the  Old  Palace ; for  it  is  now  deserted.  It  was  formerly 
the  abode  of  tlie  Te  Wang  Kun,  for  many  years  regent,  and 
since  liis  violent  kidnapping  by  Li  Hung  Chang,  the  Viceroy 
of  Shanghai,  has  remained  in  neglected  emptiness.  The  pres- 
ent king  cared  not  to  move  from  the  palace  he  had  occupied 
as  the  royal  minor;  for  his  associations  with  the  regent,  his 
own  father,  were  not  of  the  pleasantest.  So,  after  the  sudden 
catastrophe,  what  is  known  as  the  New  Palace  became  the  seat 
of  the  court.  The  complicated  relationship  between  the  Te 
Wang:  Kun  and  the  reig-ning:  sovereign  used  to  throw  mv  at- 
tempts  at  Korean  royal  genealogy  into  great  confusion.  The 
]>resent  king  succeeded  to  the  throne  in  direct  line  of  descent; 
and  yet,  owing  to  his  tender  years,  he  a})pointed  his  own  lather 
regent,  — a position  the  latter  found  so  congenial  that  he  re- 
fused to  let  it  go.  There  was,  therefore,  no  love  lost  between 
the  two.  The  fact  was,  tlie  present  king  had  been  adopted  by 
tlie  preceding  monarch,  so  that  he  had  ceased,  by  law,  to  be 
the  son  of  Ids  own  father  as  much  as  he  had  ceased  in  heart 
to  feel  the  tie. 

The  appearance  of  the  place  sadly  bespoke  its  desertion. 
We  found  ourselves  in  an  immense  courtyard,  or  park,  covered, 
the  greater  part  of  it,  with  a sparse  grass.  Through  tlie  mid- 
dle of  the  })ark  ran  a broad  paved  pathway,  about  sixty  leet 


THE  PALACES. 


291 


wide,  over  wliicli  in  places  tlie  grass  was  beginning  once  more 
to  reclaim  its  sway.  This  avenue  stretched  from  the  archway  at 
which  Ave  had  entered  to  another  similar  structure  at  the  other 
end  of  the  park.  Owing  to  the  fact  that  the  gates  of  both  of 
these  were  closed,  the  full  majesty  of  this  entrance  to  the  royal 
presence  Avas  lost.  Seen  in  its  entirety,  it  would  have  been  most 
imposing.  As  a pa\’ed  AA'ay,  it  started  Avithout,  at  the  stone 
lions,  ran  up  a gentle  incline  to  the  outer  gate,  and  then  passed 
successively  through  three  gateAvaA's  and  tAvo  park-like  courts 
until  it  emerged  at  last  into  a third,  in  the  centre  of  AA’hich, 
raised  on  a terrace  of  earth,  stood  the  Audience  Hall  Through- 
out its  length  it  aa'us  perfectly  straight,  in  truly  magnificent  con- 
trast to  the  ordinary  road.  As  an  unpaved  Avay  it  extended 
farther  still ; for  outside,  beyond  the  lions,  there  spread  aAvay  a 
broad  aA’enue  to  the  distance  of  half  a mile.  As  for  the  gate- 
Avays,  they  Avere  not  simply  entrances,  but  ceremonial  entrances, 
of  the  same  general  type  as  the  city  gates,  but  finer,  Avith  ma.'<- 
sive  stone  foundations,  triply  pierced,  and  croAvned  Avith  large 
AA'ooden  buildings.  They  Avere  almost  as  grand  as  the  Audience 
Hall  itself.  At  this  my  first  A’isit  I quite  missed  the  effect  of  the 
unity  ; for  Ave  Avere  conducted  through  so  many  lesser  gateAvays 
and  courts,  off  to  one  side,  and  Avere  taken  so  many  turnings,  that 
I lost  all  idea  of  direction,  and  AAdien  at  last  Ave  emerged  by  a 
side-entrance  before  the  Audience  Hall,  I had  no  conception  left 
of  its  relative  bearing  to  any  other  part  of  the  A\ast  enclosure. 
Around  this  last  and  most  sacred  of  the  great  courts  ran  what, 
for  a better  word,  I may  call  cloisters.  TheA^  Avere  a sort  of 
half-Avay  stage  betAveen  the  enclosing  wall,  pure  and  simple, 
and  Avhat  in  Korea,  in  course  of  time,  it  iiiA-ariably  develops 
into,  — a continuous  line  of  houses,  occupied  usually  by  ser- 
A’ants.  Stretching  iiiAvard  from  the  cloisters  came  the  grass,  and 
then  a terrace  of  earth,  bordered  by  a stone  parapet,  and  in  the 
centre  of  all  the  hall.  In  certain  AvaA's  it  is  the  finest  buildinof 


292 


THE  LAXD  or  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


ill  Korea,  its  only  rival  being-  the  Palace  of  Summer.  It 
Avould  be  a fine  building  anyivliere  in  the  ivorld.  It  has 
the  grandeur  of  unity.  As  I did  not  measure  it,  I shall  let 
the  reader  judge  for  himself  of  the  size,  by  comparing  it 
with  a man  who  stands  without  on  the  steps.  He  will  then 
realize  the  effect  of  the  interior,  when  I say  that  the  ivliole  is 
one  single  room,  and  there  is  nothing  in  it  but  the  throne. 

This  Audience  Hall  exemplifies  some  of  the  curious  cere- 
monial laws  in  reference  to  building.  The  wooden  pillars  that 
support  what  would  be  the  first  story  were  there  a second, 
are  all  circular.  This  proclaims  it  a royal  structure.  Ko  one 
but  the  king  may  have  them  of  that  form ; others  must  have 
them  square.  Some  of  the  ancient  mathematicians  ivould  have 
del  ighted  in  the  reason  given  for  this  practice.  It  is  because 
the  circle  is  a more  perfect  figure  than  the  square;  for  earth 
is  square,  heaven  round.  Why  exactly  the  opposite  rule  should 
h(dd  in  the  case  of  the  rafters  is  not  quite  evident;  for  there  to 
the  king  belongs  the  square,  to  the  people  the  round.  I failed 
to  discover  the  reason  of  the  incongruity  ; still,  it  is  a poor  rule 
that  will  not  work  both  wa}’s. 

The  broad  flight  of  stone  steps  was  another  perquisite  of  roy- 
alty, befitting  his  Majesty’s  social  eminence.  Three  are  deemed 
sufficient  elevation  for  the  average  mortal’s  abode ; more  than 
that  cost  him  his  head. 

After  we  had  admired  the  Audience  Hall,  within  and  with- 
out, we  retreated  again  through  the  gate  by  which  we  had  en- 
tered, and  walking  down  a long  open  corridoi-,  or  lane,  between 
high  walls,  came  most  unexpectedly  upon  a lamentalde  scene 
of  desolation.  Large  blocks  of  stone,  which  Nature  had  not 
yet  covered  with  her  mantle  of  respectal)ility,  lay  one  upon 
another  in  purposeless  confusion ; in  another  place  a pile  of 
bricks  suggested  some  dilapidated  pyramid ; while  here  and 
there  the  most  unsightly  holes  beggared  even  Nature  to  rival 


THE  PALACES. 


293 


them.  There  is,  indeed,  something  terribly  desolate  in  the  ruins 
of  a past  fire,  for  such  we  saw  before  iis  at  that  moment;  and 
yet  it  had  all  happened  many  years  ago,  so  they  told  us. 

It  was  a ffreat  relief  to  turn  from  this  scene  into  a little 
gateway  that  gave  admittance  to  the  enclosure  known  as  the 
Palace  of  Summer.  It  is  the  finest  example  of  the  lotus  pond 
in  Korea.  Two  stone  causeways  span  the  narrowest  part  of 
the  pond,  joining  the  central  island  to  the  grounds  without. 
Upon  this  rises,  not  a tree,  but  a superb  building,  supported 
by  forty-eight  monolithic  columns.  Fine  as  the  building  is, 
it  is  quite  inferior  to  its  own  foundation;  for  all  this  magnifi- 
cent dis})lay  of  columns  is  nothing  but  a foundation,  Avhicli 
does  not  properly  constitute  a part  of  the  building  at  all.  It 
is  not  the  onl}'  preface  which  has  been  the  chief  merit  of  the 
work  itself.  There  are  in  the  pond  other  islands,  smaller  and 
after  the  usual  type;  and  around  them  all  sleeps  the  lazy  water, 
when  in  the  hot  summer  afternoons  the  cpieen  and  her  court 
ladies  come  to  sit  in  the  cool  breezes  that  blow  down  from  the 
high  peaks  of  the  Cock’s-comb.  From  this  custom  the  place 
took  its  name.  Now,  however,  it  was  an  ice-g;irden ; and  the 
white  winding-sheet  lay  dotted  with  the  dead  leaves  and  bell- 
sha})ed  seed-vessels  of  last  year’s  imprisoned  lotus. 

Mounting  to  what  I can  hardly  refrain  from  calling  the 
second  story,  though  it  was  really  only  a pi’opped-up  rez  de 
chaiissee,  we  wandered  around  the  broad  piazza,  gazing  at  the 
lotus  pond,  the  palace  grounds,  and  the  North  Hill  rising  coni- 
cally beyond,  while  away  in  the  further  distance  the  barren 
range  of  peaks  looked  down  upon  ns,  as  if  in  answer.  The 
sides  of  this  piazza  Avere  of  cai’A’-ed  Avood,  and  the  AA'hole  Avas 
as  elaborate  as  anything  in  Soul,  Avhich,  however,  is  not  saying 
much,  as  decoration  of  any  form  is  not  a feature  of  Korean 
art.  The  royal  monopolies  are  probably  the  cause  of  this ; for, 
as  an  instance,  I may  say  that  only  on  the  king’s  buildings  is 


294 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


paint  ever  allowed.  The  wonderful  taste  of  Japan  is  quite 
wanting  in  Korea. 

We  descended,  and  after  wandering  through  several  grass- 
grown  alleys,  where  the  calm  of  the  morning  seemed  indeed 
to  sleep,  and  meandering  over  some  veritable  parks,  hut  all 
hemmed  in  by  walls  that  hesitated  not  to  scale  the  slopes  of 
the  North  Hill,  we  retraced  our  steps,  and  to  my  surprise  at  last 
found  ourselves  at  the  outer  gate. 

Here  my  kind  guide  got  into  a dilapidated  jinrikisha,  of 
which  he  Avas  more  proud  than  of  the  finest  palanquin,  and 
in  Avliich  he  Avas  most  unmercifully  jolted  as  he  rattled  sloAvly 
aAvay,  leaving  me  Avith  a parting  memory  of  huge  amber  spec- 
tacles Ijobbing  unceremoniously  up  and  doAAm,  Avhile  their 
OAvner  sat  ill  at  ease,  trying  his  best  to  look  comfortable  and 
dignified. 

Fully  a mile  aAvay  from  the  Old  Palace  lies  Avhat  is  called  the 
NeAv  Palace,  — that  collection  of  grounds  and  buildings  Avhich 
is  at  present  the  abode  of  the  reigning  sovereign  of  Korea. 
Strictly  speaking,  the  title  is  in  both  parts  a misnomer ; for 
the  place,  so  called,  is  neither  new,  nor  is  it  exactly  Avhat  in 
Western  parlance  Avould  be  styled  a palace,  and  yet  to  Korean 
thought  it  is  both.  Its  age  is  comparatiA’e  merely,  as  indeed 
must  be  that  of  everATliino:  Avhich  does  not  contain  within  itself 
a term  of  life.  In  this  case  the  comparison  is  Avith  AA'hat  is 
knoAvn  at  the  present  time  as  the  Old  Palace.  But  there  is 
also  a certain  absolute  justice  in  this  last  name ; for  the  Old 
Palace  could  not  possibly  be  aiiA^  older,  placed  Avhere  it  is. 
It  is  coeval  Avith  the  beginning  of  the  present  state  of  things. 
It  dates  from  the  founding  of  the  city  of  Soul,  noAv  hard  upon 
the  five  hundredth  anniversary  of  its  coming  into  existence. 
The  NeAV  Palace  AA’as  laid  out  some  hundred  years  later,  and 
is  therefore  about  four  centuries  old  at  the  present  time.  In 
consequence  of  being  later  built,  it  occupies  a someAvhat  less 


THE  PALACES. 


295 


honorable  position  than  the  older  one  ; for  even  position  has  its 
allotted  ceremonial  in  Korea.  North,  east,  west,  and  sonth,  — 
this  is  the  relative  rank  of  the  four  cardinal  points.  In  etiquette 
the  soverelg’U  always  faces  the  south,  and  his  subjects  look  to 
the  north.  Following  the  same  rule,  the  post  of  honor  gen- 
erally, on  all  occasions  of  ceremony,  such  as  dinners  or  feasts, 
is  at  the  northern  end  of  the  room.  A singular  practice  this  of 
determining  by  exterior  terrestrial  phenomena  the  etiquette  of 
entertainments  carried  on  within  four  walls,  wliich  are  them- 
selves in  no  wise  subjected  to  orientation,  and  may  face  any 
direction  indifferently  according  to  the  fancy  of  the  owner. 

AVhen  the  city  of  Soul  was  laid  out,  therefore,  the  palace 
Avas  given  the  post  of  honor,  — the  northern  end  of  the  space 
enclosed  by  the  city’s  Avail  ; and  AA'lien  the  second  palace  came 
to  be  built,  it  Avas  placed  as  nearly  north  as  Avas  possible, 
consistently  Avith  the  position  of  the  older  one,  to  Avhose  left, 
to  one  facing  the  city,  it  lay. 

Exactly  what  Avas  the  origin  of  this  custom  of  allotting  a 
rank  among  themsel\*es  to  the  cardinal  points,  it  Avould  be  in- 
teresting to  knoAv.  \Ve  may  perhaps  look  to  some  rude  as- 
tronomy for  an  explanation.  Like  the  Pyramids,  it  may,  in  its 
Avay,  be  the  relic  of  an  old  study  of  the  stars.  Certain! Aq  early 
man  could  hardly  haA*e  failed  to  be  struck  1>a'  the  sight  that 
AAdiile  all  else  in  the  heavens  moved,  the  pole  alone  remained  in 
dignified  repose.  The  Koreans  themselves  suggest  a more 
earthly  origin  for  the  practice.  Because  the  south  is  the 
bright,  the  Avarm,  and  therefore  the  happy  region  of  the  earth, 
they  say,  the  king  sits  so  that  he  may  ahvays  face  it.  \Vhen 
Ave  call  to  mind  the  cold  Avinters  of  those  lands  AAdience  the 
far-Eastern  peoples  migrated,  as  Avell  as  those  to  Avhich  they 
afterAvards  came  and  Avhich  they  iioaa"  inhabit,  Ave  realize  hoAv 
instinctiA-e  this  turning  in  body,  as  in  thought,  toAvard  the  sonth 
Avould  naturally  be. 


29G 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  ]\IOENING  CALM. 


T1  le  New  Palace  was  originally  built  as  a residence  for  the 
Crown  Prince,  or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  the  heir  apparent; 
for  in  Korea  the  heir  to  the  throne  is  chosen  by  the  king  during 
his  life,  and  is  not  necessarily  born  to  the  position,  though  it  is 
customary  for  his  Majesty  to  so  designate  his  eldest  son.  This 
is,  no  doubt,  a reason  for  the  superiority,  architecturally,  of  the 
other,  the  older  one.  But  the  newer  possesses  a charm  of  its 
own,  first  from  the  uneven  character  of  the  ground  over  which 
it  rambles,  and  secondly  from  being  much  less  artificially  laid 
out.  It  is  also  somewhat  the  larger  of  the  two,  in  the  extent 
of  ground  it  covers.  The  high  wall,  which  surrounds  it,  en- 
closes about  a thousand  acres.  In  this  wall  are  set  gates  at 
various  points,  fourteen  of  them  in  all.  There  is  no  symmetry 
in  their  arrangement,  nor  is  there  any  in  the  line  of  wall  itself, 
which  meanders  about  in  so  aimless  a fashion  as  to  cause  sur- 
prise when  at  last  it  ends  by  meeting  itself  again.  The  gates,  or 
archways,  are  quite  as  various  in  size  and  honor,  as  they  are  un- 
symmetrical  in  position,  — a fact  typified  by  their  names,  which 
range  through  all  the  grades  of  esteem  from  that  of  “ The  Gate 
of  Extensive  Wisdom  ” to  “ The  Moon  Yiewdng  Gate.”  The 
fourteen  are  onlv  outer  gates  ; within  are  innumerable  others, 
and  no  gate  is  without  a name.  Sometimes  the  names  are  sim- 
ply aesthetic  ; sometimes  they  are  moral  sentiments  taken  from 
Confucianism.  The  inner  life  of  the  peojde  is  so  entirely  in 
theory  only  a mixture  of  the  two  ideas,  — the  good  and  the 
beautiful,  and  the  veneration  for  a name  so  universal, — that 
there  is  no  structure  above  the  most  ordinary  and  common 
kind  but  has  its  distinct  ennobling  proper  name. 

Then  as  to  the  second  half  of  the  title,  the  term  “palace,” 
the  place  is  not  so  much  a palace  as  a collection  of  palaces. 
AVithin  is  a very  labyrinth  of  buildings,  courts,  and  parks. 
There  are  audience  halls  for  the  king  and  the  heir  apparent  ; 
then  the  separate  palaces  in  Avhich  they  respectively  live ; then 


THE  PALACES. 


297 


the  queen’s  apartments,  whose  size  may  be  imagined  from  the 
several  hundred  court  ladies,  of  various  positions,  who  are  con- 
stantly in  attendance  upon  her,  and  whom  no  male  eye,  save 
his  Majesty’s,  is  ever  permitted  to  see.  Each  of  these  sets  of 
houses  is  approached  by  its  own  series  of  courtyards  and 
dependent  buildings. 

But  perhaps  the  chief  beauty  of  the  spot  lies  in  the  grounds 
— half  gardens,  half  pai’ks  — which  occupy  the  space  not  other- 
wise built  over.  It  is  a peculiarity  of  the  far-East  that  the  domes- 
tication of  Nature  — to  use  a term  which  seems  best  to  express 
the  artificial  shaping  of  Nature  to  man’s  private  enjoyment — is 
carried  to  the  happy  half-way  point  between  the  two  extremes 
common  with  us,  and  which  are  represented  by  the  park,  on  the 
one  hand,  where  we  shape  very  little,  and  the  flower-garden 
on  the  other,  where  we  mould  a great  deal  too  much.  This  is 
peihaps  best  shown  in  Japan.  The  grounds  that  a Japanese 
delights  to  wander  through  are  an  adaptation  or  a copy  of  the 
features  of  a real  landscaj)e,  reduced  to  a convenient  scale  or 
left  of  the  natural  size,  according  to  circumstances,  and  intro- 
duced where  he  desires  them  to  exist,  but  are  in  no  sense  the 
conventional  museum  style  of  arrangement  we  adopt  in  tlie 
fashioning  of  our  flower-gardens.  Nothing  would  strike  them 
as  more  inartistic  than  a collection  of  plants,  however  beau- 
tiful individually,  arranged  in  a manner  so  wholly  unnatural. 
Such  a collection  with  them  can  be  seen,  and  can  only  be  seen, 
in  the  show  grounds  of  a.  florist,  and  affects  them  as  an  ordi- 
nary shop  window  does  us.  In  consequence,  they  more  partic- 
ularh"  affect  the  flowering  shrubs  to  a conqtarative  neglect  of 
the  annuals.  Perhaps  Nature  has  helped  them  to  the  custom 
by  ])roducing  the  finest  specimens  of  such  shrubs  to  be  seen 
anjnvhere  in  the  Avorld. 

In  Korea  there  is  wanting  the  humanizing  touch  of  the  Jap- 
anese, which  seems  to  transform  the  soil  of  their  islands  into 


298 


THE  LAXH  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


an  almost  sentient  bit  of  earth;  for  in  Japan  there  is  perhaps 
nothing-  more  striking  than  this  semi-human  look  of  the  land- 
scape. In  Korea,  in  lieu  of  this  there  is  a certain  air  of  decay- 
ing grandeur ; for  in  the  finest  gardens  stone-work,  grown  more 
or  less  dilapidated  with  age,  encases  that  bit  of  water  which, 
as  we  have  seen,  is  the  motif  of  the  whole. 

Scattered,  therefore,  through  the  half-garden,  half-park,  are 
several  of  these  “ lotus  ponds,”  set  in  a curbing  of  granite, 
with  islands  bordered  in  like  fashion.  In  the  same  manner  the 
brooks  are  confined  and  fringed,  and  are  spanned  by  stone 
bridges  at  intervals ; and  yet  so  well  done  is  the  work,  that 
it  seems  in  keeping  with  its  surroundings.  At  all  points  where 
a particularly  pretty  bit  of  landscape  presents  itself,  is  found 
a summer  house ; for  a Korean  does  not  combine  the  idea  of 
exercise  with  the  enjoyment  of  Nature,  and  prefers  to  drink 
in  the  scenery  where  at  the  same  time  he  can  sip  his  tea. 

Over  the  greater  part  of  the  scene  is  visible  the  artistic  touch 
of  neglect.  Time  and  weather  have  parted  the  stones  from  one 
another,  and  they  now  show  gaping  fissures  where  all  was  once 
smooth.  Weeds  and  grass  are  trying  tc  throw  their  green  man- 
tle over  what  they  may ; and  in  spite  of  its  name,  in  spite  of 
man  who  inhabits  it,  ruin,  in  its  incipient  stage,  seems  peculiarly 
to  be  the  genius  of  the  spot. 


A CHAPTEK  OE  HOEEOES. 


299 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 


A CHAPTER  OF  HORRORS. 


HE  age  of  bodily  adventures  lias  wellnigli  passed  away ; 


even  the  age  of  adventurers  is  no  longer  in  its  prime. 
The  age  of  brass,  like  the  age  of  iron,  has  given  place  to  the  age 
of  gold.  Perhaps  it  is  not  wholly  an  uncompensated  loss  that 
society,  like  everything  else  in  the  universe,  should  tend  to  a 
state  of  equilibrium.  Adventures,  in  the  old-fashioned  sense, 
happen  now  commonl}^  oi'ly  fools  or  detectives,  — to  those, 
that  is,  who  make  them  by  not  minding  their  own  business  or 
to  those  who  make  it  their  business  to  mind  them.  Adventures 
must  now,  indeed,  be  tracked  and  hunted  down  in  order  to  be 
met  with,  and  most  people  have  not  the  time  necessary  for 
the  pursuit. 

However  painful  the  admission,  therefore,  it  is  sustained  at 
least  by  the  consciousness  of  being  in  harmony  with  the  spirit 
of  the  times,  that  I confess  to  having  no  properly  blood-curdling 
occurrences  to  relate  No  chain  of  fateful  circumstances  ever 
forced  me  into  a situation  Avhence  my  fortunate  escape  has  since 
remained  a marvel  even  to  myself,  and  no  seemingl}"  innocent 
premises  ever  landed  me,  to  my  then  terror  though  subsequently 
reflected  glor}^,  in  conclusions  to  blanch  the  cheeks  of  an  ap- 
preciative audience.  But  one  man  in  Korea  ever  showed  me 
aught  but  extreme  politeness  and  distinguished  consideration  ; 
and  that  one  himself  furnished  me  the  proof  that  at  the  time  he 


300 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


was  in  a condition  in  wliicli  lie  was  not  himself.  So,  without 
stopping-  to  investigate  his  present  identity,  — a not  over- 
pleasing one,  — I handed  over  whoever  he  had  come  to  he  to 
the  kind  courtesy  of  a passing  soldier,  and  passed  on  my  way. 
Indeed,  Korea  is  hardly  the  land  for  specific  adventures ; the 
fact  of  being  there  at  all  is  its  own  most  startling  experience, 
and  the  continnons  necessarily  excludes  the  exceptional.  The 
horrible  is  as  near  the  adventurous  as,  nnfortimately,  I can 
come ; and  even  what  belongs  to  that  falls  perversely  under  the 
head  of  what  I might  have  seen  bnt  did  not.  At  the  time  the 
deed  was  committed,  I was  quietly  smoking  a pij^e  in  my  own 
study,  in  peaceful  oblivion  to  my  immediate  possibilities.  I 
thus  missed  a sensation. 

It  was  on  a certain  day  in  Januaiy.  Tlie  weather  had  set 
in  for  a thaw,  and  the  roads  were  heavy.  This  partially  ac- 
counts for  my  being  snngly  ensconced  at  home,  instead  of  find- 
ing myself  on  one  of  the  main  thoroughfares,  ankle-deep  in 
nmd,  some  little  distance  outside  of  the  South  Gate.  Had  I, 
however,  been  walkiim  there  on  that  siibsemientlv  memorable 
day,  I should  suddenly,  Avithoiit  the  slightest  mental  prepara- 
tion, have  stumbled  across  a most  shocking  spectacle.  There, 
on  one  side  of  the  highway,  ex})osed  to  hideous  publicity,  lay 
thirty  headless  bodies.  The  heads  had  evidently  been  severed 
from  the  trunks  by  some  sharp  instrument,  like  a sword  ; and 
the  blood,  spouting  from  the  arteries,  had  stained  the  ground  a 
horrible  red,  and  then  gathered  in  crimson  pools  that  Avere 
slowl}^  congealing  to  purple.  The  bodies  Avere  still  clothed  as 
in  life,  and  though  decapitated  Avere  yet  perfectly  recogniza- 
ble. The  greater  portion  had  once  been  men,  but  scattered 
among  them  could  be  distinctly  made  out  the  forms  of  Avomen. 
Xo  humane  regard  for  sex,  eA’idently,  had  stayed  the  hands 
that  had  done  the  deed.  x\.round  the  spot  had  collected  a cu- 
rious feAv,  in  number  sufficient  to  arrest  the  attention,  but  not 


A CHAPTER  OF  HORRORS. 


301 


enough  to  hide  the  sight ; and  on  their  faces,  where  any  ex- 
pression was  visible  at  all,  a morbid  interest  disputed  the  place 
of  a more  fitting  horror.  To  render  the  spectacle  all  the  more 
ghastly,  the  ordinary  traffic  pursued  its  course  within  a few 
inches  of  the  bodies,  as  if  nothing  uncommon  had  happened. 
Only  occasionally  some  man  whose  clothes  perhaps  had 
brushed  them  a little  closer  than  usual,  or  who  hajDpened  to 
have  been  born  more  inquisitive  than  his  fellows,  would  j^ause 
and  stare  for  a moment  on  his  way  by ; or  a band  of  children, 
in  a mad  frolic,  would  run  up  against  them  inadvertently,  and 
then  hastily  scamper  away  again  with  only  the  instinctive 
tribute  of  an  involuntary  shudder. 

As  if  this  were  not  hideous  enough,  a little  farther  along 
was  the  still  more  horrible  complement  of  this  horrible  collec- 
tion. Gathered  in  a place  by  themselves,  in  the  midst  of  the 
mud,  lay  the  missing  heads.  They  had  all  been  carefully  car- 
ried away  from  the  trunks  to  which  they  belonged,  and  then 
arranged  Avith  fiendish  forethought  in  a long  roAv  by  the  way- 
side,  their  faces  upturned  to  the  passers-by  as  if  on  exhibition. 
What  the  feelings  Avere  of  such  as  Avere  unlucky  enough  to  in- 
habit the  houses  in  front  of  Avhich  they  lay,  can  perhaps  best 
be  imagined ; but  hoAvever  great  their  loathing,  the  OAAmers 
had  not  dared  to  move  the  heads  aAvaAx  There  they  remained, 
confronting  AA’ith  their  ghastly  stare  the  living  populace.  In 
some  the  eyes  Avere  open,  and  gazed  into  A-acancA"  Avith  the 
same  fearful  expectancy  Avith  aa'IiIcIi  they  had  aAvaited  death, 
crystallized  uoav  into  a set  expression  of  unearthly  horror ; in 
others  the  lids  had  fallen,  and  the  hair,  matted  Avith  gore,  gave 
to  the  face  a look  as  of  as'OiiA’  still  felt ; Avhile  about  them  all 
Avas  that  peculiar  ghastliness  of  a dismembered  body,  — the 
ghastliness  of  matter  that  mimics  mind.  Is  it  the  self-preser- 
A’ative  instinct  of  life  that  renders  parts  of  once  living  Avholes 
so  horrible  to  see,  — and  of  all  such,  the  most  horrible,  a face  ? 


302 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


Scanned  more  closely,  ■when  this  loathing’  was  in  some  sort 
conquered,  there  was  little  in  any  way  distinctive  about  these 
faces,  nothing  to  mark  beyond  a doubt  the  characters  of  the 
victims.  In  such  a sorry  plight  the  good  man  and  the  villain 
inspire  too  much  of  horror  in  common  to  be  recognizable. 
They  were  Koreans : that  Avas  all. 

Who  Avere  these  Avretches  ! Was  this  the  Avork  of  a band 
of  highAva3"-robbers  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  before,  or  Avas 
it  the  blood}"  extinguisher  to  an  uprising  among  the  people  ? 
It  Avas  neither.  It  Avas  nothing  so  unusual ; it  was  siinpl}"  the 
ordinary  handiwork  of  the  hiAv.  These  unfortunates  had  some 
of  them  stolen  as  much  as  ten  dollars’  Avorth  of  something,  and 
had  been  so  unluck}"  as  to  be  caught  in  the  act.  Some  of  them 
probably  had  stolen  much  less  ; but  the  laAv  cannot  discriminate 
between  insignificant  amounts,  and  they  had  then  been  eased 
by  the  laAv  of  that  life  Avhich  tliey  had  found  so  difficult  to 
keep  going.  They  had  been  mercifully  treated  Avithal ; they 
had  simply  had  their  heads  cut  off.  Had  their  crime  been 
greater,  or  had  they  chanced  to  live  a feAv  years  before,  they 
Avould  not  have  escaped  from  this  Avorld  with  so  little  discom- 
fort to  themselves. 

The  real  horror  of  their  doom  consisted  in  lying  exposed  for 
three  days  in  the  public  thoroughfare,  — a horror  rather  for  the 
living  than  the  dead.  Such  Avas  its  object.  After  decapitation, 
the  victims  are  cast  by  the  officials  upon  the  street, — the  bodies 
in  one  place,  the  heads  in  another;  and  then  for  three  days  and 
three  nights  no  man  may  touch  either  corpses  or  heads  to  take 
them  aAvay.  For  this  length  of  time  they  are  a spectacle  none 
can  avoid.  All  Avho  pass  that  Avay,  strangers  or  acquaintances 
alike,  must  perforce  face  the  ghastly  sight.  After  these  three 
days  of  public  horror,  and  only  then,  the  relatives  of  the  crimi- 
nals are  permitted  to  come  and  remoA’e  the  bodies  and  bury  them. 
To  make  crime  as  repellent  as  possible  is  the  aim  of  the  laAv. 


A CHAPTER  OF  HORRORS. 


303 


The  number  of  the  belieaded  — thirty  here  Imd  been  exe- 
cuted together  — did  not  indicate,  however,  any  undue  pro- 
portion of  crime  in  general,  nor  any  excess  at  that  time  in 
particular.  It  was  only  a little  matter  of  economy  on  the  part 
of  the  Government.  The  Government  finds  it  more  convenient 
to  delay  the  several  executions  till  a sufficient  number  of  crimi- 
nals are  collected  on  hand  in  the  prison,  and  then  to  make  one 
holocaust  of  the  whole. 

The  crime  of  these  men  and  women  had  been  simple  thiev- 
ing. Whatever  jurists  may  consider  to  have  been  demon- 
strated as  wise  in  European  legal  punishments,  it  is  certain 
that  in  the  far-East,  at  least,  the  severity  of  the  punishment 
is  prohibitory  to  the  indulgence  of  the  crime.  Actual  thieving 
is  very  rare  in  Korea,  as  it  is  in  Japan.  I observed  this  with 
impersonal  gratification  with  reference  to  the  community  at 
large  and  with  much  personal  delight  in  my  own  instance.  In 
spite  of  the  confiding  way  in  which  I left  my  things  about,  I 
never  had  anything  but  a penknife  stolen ; and  this  too  in  the 
face  of  the  fact  that,  however  valueless  to  me,  the  simplest  of 
my  trinkets  was  to  them  an  article  of  nearly  priceless  curiosity. 
When,  one  day,  I discovered  the  loss  of  the  above-mentioned 
penknife,  I suggested,  in  joke  to  the  Colonel,  with  whom  I was 
at  the  time  engaged  in  discussing  this  very  question  of  capital 
punishment,  that  I should  not  object  to  having  the  fellow 
who  stole  it  decapitated.  To  which,  to  my  horror,  he  instantly 
replied,  in  perfect  good  faith,  “And  he  would  be,  if  we  could 
only  catch  him.”  It  was  lucky  for  the  poor  devil  that  they 
never  did  succeed  in  finding  him. 

Murder,  in  the  far-East,  is  also  uncommon.  It  would  seem 
that  the  passions  there  are  not  so  violent  as  with  us ; and  this 
is  probably  due  to  centuries  of  education.  The  Buddhistic 
tenet  of  self-repression  has  undoubtedly  something  to  do  with 
it ; and  the  low  estimation  in  which  woman  is  held,  contributes 


304 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


also  to  the  result.  At  any  rate,  a mastery  over  the  expression 
of  the  feelings,  which  inevitably  tends  to  an  extinction  of  the 
feelings  themselves,  is  at  present  a marked  characteristic  of 
these  races.  There  was  but  one  murder  during  my  stay  in 
Soul,  and  that  was  not  the  deed  of  a Korean.  The  parts  Avere 
cast  the  other  wa}'.  The  Korean,  perhaps  unfortunately  for 
himself,  Avas  the  murdered,  not  the  murderer. 

I learned  of  it  one  day  as  I Avas  calling  at  the  Japanese 
legation.  It  Avas  at  that  moment  the  excitement  of  the  hour ; 
and  the  details  Avere  all  the  more  eagerly  discussed,  because 
of  the  national  hatred  of  the  Japanese  for  the  Chinese.  For  a 
Chinaman  had  done  it.  He  Avas  a soldier,  — one  of  the  many 
Chinese  troops  quartered,  under  the  command  of  a Chinese 
general,  a short  distance  outside  of  the  east  gate.  Bands  of 
them  at  times  stroll  into  the  city,  and  then  Avander  about  it  in 
search  of  amusement.  In  one  of  these  moments  of  recreation 
the  felloAv  in  question,  together  Avith  some  companions,  entered 
a certain  shop  Avhere  provisions  Avere  sold,  probably  a restau- 
rant of  some  sort.  While  there,  he  got  into  a roAv  Avith  the 
son  of  the  place,  — a mere  lad,  — and  began  to  maltreat  him. 
The  father  naturally  came  to  the  rescue  of  his  son  ; and  the 
Cliinaman  then  seized  his  rifle,  and  in  the  scuffle  that  ensued, 
fired  se\’eral  shots  promiscuously  at  both  of  them,  Avouuding  the 
father  and  killing  the  son.  The  affair  made  quite  a stir  in  the 
neighborhood ; and  the  Chinese  general,  in  consequence,  inves- 
tigated the  matter,  and  I belieA-e  had  the  man  decapitated. 

The  laAV  is  much  mitigated  in  rigor  from  Avhat  it  Avas  for- 
merly. Then  the  most  cruel  of  punishments  Avere  inflicted  for 
all  but  A’enial  offences.  This  mitigation  is  not  due  to  any 
direct  influence  from  abroad,  Avhether  Chinese,  Japanese,  or 
European,  but  to  a change  Avhich  has  sloAvly  crept  over  the 
s})irit  of  the  land.  That  it  Avas  suggested  by  foreign  Ava}’s  is 
of  course  possible ; but  it  Avould  seem  rather  to  be  a gradual. 


A CHAPTER  OF  HORRORS. 


305 


spontaneous  evolution,  working-  more  slowly  but  as  surely  in 
this  little  community,  shut  off  by  itself,  as  in  tlie  great  world 

outside.  There  are  to  be  found  manv  other  instances  of  the 

«/ 

same  spirit  at  work,  during  the  last  centuries  of  isolation.  But 
there  is  one  feature  about  the  change  which  is  suggestive  and, 
were  such  an  adjective  possible  scientifically,  sad.  It  has  been 
a spirit  of  death,  not  of  life.  Old  customs  have  passed  away, 
but  no  new  ones  have  arisen  to  take  their  place.  It  has  been 
tlie  gradual  dying  of  the  motion  of  the  pendulum  of  life,  where, 
iu  the  absence  of  fresh  motives  to  exertion,  natural  indolence  is 
slowly  and  surely  bringing  it  to  rest. 

As  it  is  but  a step  from  the  sublimity  of  horror  to  the  ludi- 
crousness of  a Korean  fight,  I feel  inclined  to  take  it,  and  all 
the  more  tliat  it  is  the  one  turning  aside  from  the  path  of  wis- 
dom of  this  quiet,  dignified  people,  the  one  flaw  in  their  deeply 
ingrained  pliilosophy  of  courtesy,  which  is,  after  all,  but  another 
name  for  sense.  For  this  reason  alone,  it  is  worthy  a place  in 
their  chamber  of  horrors. 

I was  one  day  walking  along  one  of  the  country  roads, 
chewing  the  cud  of  reflection,  in  silent  sympathy  with  the 
bulls  I occasionally  passed,  as  I mused  upon  the  delightful 
contrast  between  the  gentleness  and  urbanity  of  the  East  and 
the  only  too  common  rudeness  and  brutality  of  the  West,  when, 
as  if  to  give  the  lie  to  my  unspoken  thought,  I suddenly  found 
myself  face  to  fiice  witli  the  commonest  of  street  fights.  At 
the  moment  I arrived  the  combatants  had  reached,  from  their 
originally  more  dignified  position,  the  humble  level  of  mother 
earth,  with  a deplorable  want  of  consideration  for  the  onl}^  too 
easily  tarnished  purit}^  of  their  garments.  But  this  heedlessness 
was  as  nothing  to  the  sorry  plight  to  which  each  had  reduced 
the  other’s  headgear.  For  a Korean’s  pride  lies  in  his  coif- 
fure, and  he  disarranges  it  as  little  as  may  be,  even  for  ablu- 
tionary purposes.  Unfortunately,  it  also  constitutes  his  most 

20 


306 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


A’ulneraljle  spot ; for  it  is  long-  enough  to  afford  excellent 
holding-ground  for  an  opponent.  It  is  therefore  the  first  point 
of  attack.  As  I came  up,  each  of  the  two  writhing  masses  of 
clothes  — for  Korean  dresses  are  at  all  times  most  ample,  and 
here  caused  a lamentable  loss  of  identity  to  their  respective 
owners  — showed  hut  a black  mass  of  hair  as  a target  for  the 
adversary’s  vengeance.  This  had  not  failed  of  its  mark ; and 
each  head  was  securely  in  the  grasp  of  a not  friendly  hand, 
which  was  pulling  at  the  locks  most  unmercifully.  Some  of 
them  it  had  already  pulled  out,  as  the  hunches  of  dark  hair 
on  the  ground  around  amply  testified.  Coincidently  the  faces 
of  the  combatants  were  getting  pretty  well  scarred  and  mal- 
treated. Although  many  spectators,  after  thoroughly  satiating 
their  curiosity,  liad  then  felt  impelled  to  attempt  to  separate 
the  two,  this  praiseworthy  intent  was  rendered,  from  the  pecu- 
liar method  of  warfare,  no  easy  task.  To  dislodge  a hand 
firmly  imbedded  in  a tangled  mass  of  hair,  while  the  head  to 
which  the  hair  belongs  bobs  about  like  a buoy  in  a rough 
sea,  is  a feat  to  tax  tlie  ingenuity  of  even  an  anxious  friend, 
not  to  speak  of  lukewarm  bystanders.  Finally,  more  from 
Avant  of  strength  on  the  part  of  the  weaker  combatant,  and 
satisfied  vengeance  on  the  part  of  the  stronger,  than  from 
any  effectual  assistance  from  the  croAvd,  the  fight  eventually 
ceased  or  lulled,  — I am  not  sure  which,  for  at  that  jDoint  I 
came  aAvay. 


THE  VALLEY  OF  CLOTHES. 


307 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


THE  VALLEY  OF  CLOTHES. 


XE  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Japanese  legation  had  dis- 


covered, in  the  course  of  his  strolls  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  capital,  a tidbit  of  scenery  that  he  had  straightway 
fallen  in  love  with,  and  he  was  anxious  to  show  it  to  me.  It 
was  a sort  of  shrine,  he  informed  me,  utterly  alone  amid 
the  most  desolate  of  landscapes ; and  then,  in  defence  of  his 
ideal,  he  added,  by  way  of  disconnting  beforehand  any  possi- 
ble want  of  appreciation  on  my  part,  that  perhaps  it  was  too 
severe  a spot  to  please  a Western  eye.  Nevertheless,  he  pro- 
posed and  promised  it  as  the  guerdon  of  a walk ; and  he 
hoped,  he  said,  that  I might  love  it  with  at  least  a little  of 
the  love  he  lavished  upon  it  himself,  — a love  awakened  by 
its  very  helpless,  hopeless  dreariness.  The  description  of  it 
was  certainly  not  enticing;  but  still  it  was  something  to  see, 
and  still  more  something  to  see  Avhat  it  was  that  had  so  won 
the  Japanese  fancy;  So  one  afternoon  we  set  off  to  call, 
as  in  far-Eastern  thought  it  would  almost  become,  upon  his 
inamorata ; and  we  took  mv  camera  with  us  to  immortalize 


Onr  road  carried  us  round  the  long  lines  of  the  Old  Palace 
wall,  majestically  stretching  out  into  perspective  distance,  and 
then  across  a northern  corner  of  the  great  town,  till  at  last 
it  boldly  attacked  a hill,  with  only  the  least  possible  hesitation 


her. 


308 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


of  a turn  on  the  way  up,  to  gain  for  itself  an  exit  through  the 
northeast  gate.  One  is  always  pleasingly  reminded  of  the 
strategic  importance  of  the  wall  on  trying  to  leave  the  city 
anywhere  on  the  north  side,  by  the  amount  of  toil  involved 
in  getting  out. 

The  very  name,  a walled  city,  has  in  it  the  sound  of  ro- 
mance. In  these  days  a city’s  wall,  if  powerless  to  keep  out 
the  foe  of  the  present,  seems  at  least  sufficient  to  shut  in  the 
memories  of  the  past ; and  a wall  that  tops  the  crest  of  a 
natural  rise  has  in  it  a touch  of  grandeur  too.  There  is  some- 
thing impressive  in  tlie  loneliness  with  which  it  stands  out 
against  the  sky,  something  of  infinity  in  the  little  bit  of  trans- 
parent blue  its  gate  enframes.  Ordinarily  horizons  are  grad- 
uated,— the  land  and  the  sky  merge  into  a common  distance, 
until  you  forget  that  one  is  not  a continuation  of  the  other. 
But  here  your  eye  follows  the  ground  a score  of  paces  up  be- 
fore you,  and  then  is  launched  into  the  lonely  infinite  expanse. 
As  you  mount,  you  seem  to  be  approaching  the  end  of  the 
world,  until,  in  an  instant,  there  spreads  out  a panorama  at 
your  feet  upon  the  further  side. 

In  order  the  better  to  rest  after  our  exertion  in  climbing  the 
hill,  we  proceeded  to  add  to  its  height  by  mounting  to  the 
second  story  of  the  gateway,  and  in  this  eyry-like  pavilion 
sat  down  to  enjoy  the  view,  and  incidentally  to  indulge  in 
comments  upon  my  companion’s  distant,  and  by  him  barely 
acknowledged,  relatives,  as  they  emerged,  grotesquely  fore- 
shortened, from  under  the  gate.  Seen  from  where  we  sat,  their 
appearance  not  unjustly  provoked  that  reckless  irony  which  is 
the  triljute  we  pay  to  striking  dissimilarity.  First  a hod  of 
bru.shwood  walked  through,  apparently  of  itself,  and  then  began 
in  the  most  dignified  manner  to  descend  the  hill.  Next  a 
couple  of  huge  hats  did  the  same,  nodding  along  side  by 
side  in  most  sociable  proximity, — an  affection  due  to  their 


THE  VALLEY  OF  CLOTHES. 


309 


great  size  compared  witli  the  heads  heneath;  and  lastly,  a more 
imposing  individual  on  horseback  emerged,  on  an  amble,  from 
under  our  feet,  whose  head  seemed  to  us  to  be  set  on  a pivot  in 
the  neck  and  to  be  worked  by  the  heavy  bob  of  a pendulum 
beneath,  so  regularly  did  it  wag  back  and  forth.  So  the  proces- 
sion passed.  Thus  debasingly  was  poor  humanity  transformed 
into  peripatetic  automata.  At  last,  satiated  with  judging  of 
mankind  de  haut  en  has,  we  descended  from  our  exalted  station 
and  walked  through,  ourselves. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  gate,  some  little  distance  be}mnd 
it,  stood  one  of  the  sacred  devil-trees.  Its  woe-begone  appear- 
ance, like  that  of  tlie  pitiably  expressive  images  in  certain  ca- 
thedrals, Avorn  away  by  constant  kissing,  betrayed  it  at  a glance 
to  be  the  spoiled  recipient  of  too  mucli  attention;  for  Avhat 
with  the  shreds  of  cloth  that  hung,  the  most  lamentable  of 
rags,  from  its  then  leafless  branches,  and  its  mournfully  isolated 
position,  it  looked  wretched  enough  to  be  the  victim  of  univer- 
sal adoration.  However,  here  the  cause  Avas  more  vicarious ; 
for  it  Avas  only  a jail  or  trap,  Avith  the  tattered  finery  for  bait, 
and  Avas  supposed  to  be  chock  full  of  devils.  Their  startling 
proximity  did  not,  hoAvever,  terrify  any  one ; for  about  the  tree 
had  been  built  a terrace  of  stone,  that  Avayfarers  might  rest  in 
summer  beneath  its  friendly  shade. 

The  country  Avithout  the  gate  Avas,  even  for  this  part  of 
Korea,  particularly  up  and  down,  — a mass  of  peaks  so  huddled 
together  that  it  Avas  as  much  as  Nature  could  do  to  proAude  the 
valleys  necessary  to  their  separate  identity.  Pushed  a little  far- 
ther, she  Avould  have  given  out  in  despair,  to  let  them  coalesce 
into  one  continuous  table-land.  There  had  eAudently  been  some 
mistake  as  to  the  amount  of  surface  to  be  prepared  for  this  bit 
of  country.  Much  more  had  been  provided  than  there  Avas 
space  to  cover,  and  being  there  had  to  be  squeezed  in,  at 
the  last  moment,  as  best  it  could. 


310 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  IMORNING  CALM. 


The  first  of  these  valleys  that  we  entered  has  left  upon  my 
mind  only  an  impression  of  much  betrodden  mud,  — an  impres- 
sion which,  if  the  reader  can  only  grasp  my  expression  of  it, 
will  accurately  define  the  appearance  in  winter  of  many  Korean 
spots  other  than  this  particular  valley.  It  ended  abruptly  in 
another  somewhat  wider  valley,  which,  however,  instantly  con- 
tracted on  either  liand  from  the  point  where  we  reached  it.  If 
the  first  valley  liad  seemed  cheerless,  the  second  was  nothing 
short  of  the  abomination  of  desolation  spoken  of  by  tlie  propliet. 
It  fulfilled  my  idea  of  an  impersonation  of  nothing.  We  trav- 
elled up  this  dreary  species  of  canon  a few  hundred  yards, 
and  suddenly  came  upon  tlie  spot  we  were  seeking.  Perched 
on  one  of  the  ledges  that  flanked  the  narrow  stream,  stood  a 
tenantless  temple.  It  was  built  in  the  Korean  style  of  architec- 
ture in  use  since  tlie  inroad  of  Chinese  taste,  which  the  view  I 
took  of  it  will  make  more  understandable  than  any  description. 
It  was  indeed  a little  gem,  well  set  off  by  its  dreary  isolation. 
It  had  been  built,  so  I was  afterwards  informed,  in  commemora- 
tion of  a certain  battle,  in  which,  as  the  Koreans  aver,  they 
concpiered.  The  sides  of  the  valley  were  almost  treeless,  with 
not  enough  earth  upon  them  to  hide  the  crags  that  stack 
through  in  many  places ; and  in  the  centre,  on  either  side  of 
the  stream,  Avere  smooth  gray  ledges  of  rock,  Avithout  even  a 
A'estiofe  of  coA^erinof,  AA'hile  innumerable  boulders  of  all  sizes 
streAved  Avhat  at  certain  seasons  evidently  AAms  the  bed  of  a 
torrent.  To  the  Korean  eye,  Avhich  sees  in  rocks  the  bones 
of  mother  earth,  and  in  soil  her  flesh,  the  place  must  liaA^e 
seemed  a A'ery  skeleton. 

The  little  stream,  Avith  so  much  smooth  rock  immediately 
about  it,  had  evidently  been  intended  by  Nature,  so  the  Koreans 
Avisely  concluded,  for  a place  in  Avhich  to  carry  on  a Avholesale 
clothes-washing.  In  pursuance  of  this  practical  application  of 
their  appreciation  of  the  locality,  they  had  streAvn  the  rocks 


THE  VALLEY  OF  CLOTHES. 


311 


plentifully  with  their  washed  apparel,  and  left  them  there  alone 
to  dry ; so  that  now  innumerable  white  patches  relieved,  if  they 
in  no  sense  beautified,  the  otherwise  universal  gray.  In  spite 
of  these  evidences  of  humanity,  there  was  not  a creature  to  be 
seen  from  where  we  stood  opposite  the  temple,  with  the  single 
exception  of  a solitaiy  individual  in  the  distance,  who  had  ap- 
parently been  belated  in  the  conclusion  of  his  toil.  For  how 
many  miles  this  sort  of  laundry  exhibition  continued  I cannot 
directly  affirm,  for  we  only  ascended  the  stream  for  a com- 
paratively short  distance ; but  there  was  no  appearance  of  any 
decrease  in  the  number  of  clothes  so  exposed  as  far  as  we  could 
see  ahead  up  the  valley.  In  some  places  whole  fields  of  them 
had  been  left  quite  far  off  by  themselves  to  dry,  in  delightfully 
confiding  abandonment;  while  in  other  spots  we  came  upon 
groups  of  women  industriously  pounding  less  advanced  speci- 
mens in  a most  merciless  manner  with  short  round  sticks.  This 
ocular  proof  of  the  custom  alone  convinced  me  that  the  Kore- 
ans ever  washed  their  clothes.  I had  been  more  than  sceptical 
before,  but  I realized  then  with  contrition  the  wrong  I had 
done  a people  who  naturally  find  it  impossible  to  keep  clean 
in  white  garments. 

The  manner  of  their  clothes-washing  is,  in  all  respects  but 
one,  the  simplest  imaginable.  The  clothes  are  taken  to  the 
nearest  brook  and  thoroughly  pounded  with  sticks  until  they 
have  yielded  up  the  ghost  of  the  unclean  spirit,  when  they  are 
laid  on  the  ground  to  dry.  The  simplicity  of  cut  of  the  clothes 
makes  this  method  as  efficacious  as  it  is  easy.  The  one  respect 
in  which  any  sort  of  complication  enters,  is  a practice  which 
is  also  common  to  Japan,  though  there  it  is  performed  on  all 
clothes  alike,  Avhile  in  Korea  only  winter  apparel  is  so  treated. 
The  garment  to  be  washed  is  first  ripped  into  its  constituent 
parts,  and  each  of  these  washed  separately,  and  then  separately 
set  out  to  dry.  The  dismembered  garment  is  subsequently 


812 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


gatliered  up  and  sewed  together  again,  so  that  in  some  sense  a 
washing  is  equivalent  to  a new  dress.  In  Japan  tlie  effect  of 
this  is  even  more  peculiar,  as  the  pieces  are  plastered  down 
with  the  hand  on  boards  to  diy,  in  order  thus  the  better  to 
keep  their  shape,  and  the  curious  flat  patchwork  resembles 
anything  rather  than  what  it  really  is. 

AVe  continued  up  the  valley  — or  rather  made  a short  cut 
over  a hill,  where  the  valley  made  a bend  — to  a village  famed 
for  a certain  paper-mill.  It  turned  out  that  the  mill  had  been 
discontinued,  but  we  very  nearl}"  secured  another  object  of  in- 
terest by  our  sudden  descent  upon  it.  This  just-missed  prize 
was  the  most  beautiful  Korean  woman  I ever  saw.  She  was 
very  busily  engaged  in  the  local  pursuit.  Our  seeing  her  but 
for  a short  time  would  alone  account  for  the  superlative,  of 
course ; but  in  this  case  it  was  a fact,  for  we  did  see  her  quite 
well  though  not  long.  The  mistake  lay  in  not  being  satisfied 
with  a little.  Unfortunately,  we  wished  to  photograph  her.  As 
soon  as  she  caught  sight  of  us,  without  so  much  as  waiting  to 
learn  our  intent,  she  fled  with  a precipitancy  I have  never  seen 
equalled  into  a neighboilng  house,  at  the  entrance  to  which 
stood  an  elderly  man,  Avho  remained  through  it  all  as  immova- 
ble as  a statue.  The  house  stood  a little  way  up  the  bank  on 
one  side  of  the  stream  ; we  wei’e  on  the  other.  To  be  robbed 
like  this  of  what  could  not  be  duplicated,  and  so  unnecessaril}’, 
too,  seemed  to  us  to  be  worthy  a struggle  to  recover.  So  we 
began  to  parley.  \Ye  summoned  the  good  Kim  to  the  front 
to  address  the  aged  impassive  Korean  on  the  bank,  whom  we 
assumed  to  have  some  connection  with  the  fair  refugee.  There 
we  all  were,  stationed  like  the  posts  of  an  army  on  the  eve  of  an 
attack:  the  aged  foe  on  the  top  of  the  bank;  Kim  interviewing 
him  from  the  bottom  of  it ; I directing  operations  from  the  mid- 
dle of  the  brook  ; and  the  Japanese  Secretary  vouchsafing  sug- 
gestions from  a base  of  retreat  on  the  further  side.  The  assumed 


THE  VALLEY  OF  CLOTHES. 


313 


connection,  above  mentioned,  the  aged  Korean  of  course  denied, 
which  we  told  him  mattered  little  to  the  affair,  as  the  object  of 
it  was  at  least  hiding  in  his  abode,  and  he  could  therefore  pro- 
duce her.  He  said  he  could  not ; she  was  too  obstinate  and  too 
alarmed.  We  then  tried  to  explain  to  him,  first  the  harmlessness 
of  our  purpose,  and  secondly  the  honor  it  w^as  to  be  wanted  for 
a photograph  ; and  we  enumerated  a long  list  of  illustrious  vic- 
tims to  our  art.  This,  we  judged,  could  not  be  without  an  effect 
on  him;  but  all  he  replied  was  that  he  did  not  know  her  well 
enongh  to  speak  to  her  Though  unquestionably  false,  it  would 
have  been  discourteous  to  have  denied  it ; so  we  continued, 
diplomatically,  to  conciliate  by  suggesting  all  the  other  induce- 
ments which  at  the  moment  struck  us  as  cogent,  until  finally  he 
so  far  weakened  as  to  offer  us  a substitute  in  the  person  of  an  old 
crone,  as  aged  as  himself,  and  more  ugly,  who  appeared  at  that 
instant  from  within  the  house,  and  whom  we  took  to  be  the 
grandmother  of  the  beautiful  girl,  though  she  may  have  been 
older.  Having  lost  all  her  looks,  she  at  least  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  the  rape  of  a photograph  Turning  from  the  first 
individual,  we  directed  our  attention  to  the  new-comer,  and 
did  our  best  to  influence  her  presumably  softer  womanly  heart 
by  reviewing,  in  a different  order, — for  Ave  had  quite  exhausted 
our  stock  of  inventions, — all  Ave  had  preA'iously  said  to  the 
man.  She,  hoAvever,  Avould  not  so  much  as  give  us  an  an- 
SAver,  and  did  absolutely  nothing  at  all, — for  staring  immov- 
ably could  hardly  be  accounted  doing  anything,  — and  the 
man  then  gratuitously  added  to  his  other  reasons  of  impos- 
sibility that  the  young  Avoman  had  now  run  aAvay  home.  We 
had  not  seen  her  depart,  and  Ave  felt  sure  she  Avas  Avithin ; but 
Ave  Avere  poAverless.  The  dog  of  the  household  had  iioav  added 
himself  to  the  group  on  the  bank,  and  took  from  time  to  time  a 
lazy  interest  in  the  proceedings.  Matters  began  to  look  hope- 
less ; so  Ave  pre^Aared  for  the  inevitable,  and  Avaylaid  a A^ery 


314 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


inferior  specimen  of  the  sex,  wlio  was  on  her  way  home  with 
so  heavy  a bundle  of  washed  clothes  that  she  could  not  rim 
away.  But  we  never  ceased  regretting,  to  the  end  of  our  jour- 
ney back  and  for  many  a long  day  after,  that  Korean  prudish- 
ness should  only  have  vouchsafed  us  the  grandmother,  wlien 
we  liad  tried  so  liard  for  the  maid. 

It  was  entirely  a cpiestion  of  sex  that  had  stood  in  our  way. 
In  Korea  there  is,  so  far  as  I could  judge  from  numerous  in- 
stances, no  superstitious  fear  of  being  photograplied,  such  as 
exists  in  China,  wliere  with  the  image  it  is  believed  is  taken 
away  a part  of  the  personality. 

Tliough  we  also  missed  seeing  the  paper-mill,  it  may  not  be 
out  of  jilace  here  to  say  a ivord  about  that  perhaps  most  famous 
of  Korean  manufactured  products,  Korean  paper.  In  Korea, 
paper  is  not  made  from  rags  ; it  is  made  solely  from  the  bark  of 
the  paper  tree.  The  result  is  that  Korean  or  JajDanese  or  Chi- 
nese paper  — for  all  three  are  made  in  the  same  way  — is  a 
very  different  article  from  paper  such  as  we  know  it.  Our  paper 
tears  easily  in  any  direction  ; Korean  paper  tears  only  with  the 
grain,  and  separates  into  long  shreds  when  it  comes  apart  at  all. 
It  is  sometimes  almost  impossible  to  tear  it;  and  I have  known 
paper  to  split  down  its  side,  coming  off  in  thin  broad  laminae, 
rather  than  }deld  to  a force  across  it.  This  strength  renders  it 
a much  more  generally  serviceable  article  than  ours  would  be. 
To  Avrite  upon  it  is  one  of  the  very  minor  uses  to  which  it  is 
put ; and  in  fact,  in  our  sense  of  the  word,  it  could  hardly  be 
AATitten  on  at  all,  for  it  is  never  glazed.  On  the  other  hand, 
many  kinds  of  it  are  oiled,  and  so  become  waterproof  and  ex- 
ceedingly tough.  Oil-paper  is  used  for  the  inside  fittings  of  a 
house,  for  hats,  coats,  and  many  other  uses  ivhere  it  will  be  ex- 
posed to  the  weather  or  to  continued  wear  and  tear.  The  natural 
paper  is  used  for  writing  (properly  called  painting),  for  books, 
fails,  lanterns,  and  so  on.  So  common  is  it  in  one  form  or  the 


THE  VALLEY  OF  CLOTHES. 


315 


Other  that  it  mlo-ht  almost  be  said  that  where  the  one  kind  is  not 

O 

used,  the  other  is.  Though  it  is  not  glazed,  there  is  a sheen  on 
it,  due  to  the  pressing  to  which  it  is  subjected  in  the  manu- 
facture, and  to  the  character  of  the  material ; but  it  is  never 
smootli.  Korean  paper  is  even  tougher  than  the  Japanese,  and 
is  one  of  the  few  Korean  things  that  had  made  a reputation 
in  the  world  beft)re  its  home  had  become  truly  a part  of  the 
community  of  nations. 


31G 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

COSTUME. 

IT  is  a curious  and  interestiug'  fact  that  of  all  the  manuers 
and  customs  of  a people,  none  should  be  considered  more 
characteristic  by  the  people  themselves  than  dress.  The  very 
nomenclature  of  the  subject  betrays  the  feeling.  Custom,  cos- 
tume, haVit,  habitude,  show  that  what  we  have  now  differentiated 
into  two  sprang  not  long  ago  from  a common  root ; and  no 
better  comment  on  the  importance  of  a particular  branch  of 
any  subject  could  be  made  than  its  appropriation  in  this  man- 
ner of  the  generic  name.  This  appropriation  came  about  at  a 
time,  now  some  centuries  since  in  our  history,  when  the  art 
of  dressing  commanded  a care  and  attention  never  known  be- 
fore and  in  all  probability  never  to  be  realized  again.  It  may 
be  said  to  have  marked  the  culminating  point  of  the  world’s 
indolence.  That  the  art  of  dress  may  flourish,  wealth  is  not 
so  necessary  a factor  as  opportunity.  Perhaps  this  is  why  we 
And  it,  and  all  in  connection  with  it,  especially  luxuriant  in 
Korea.  For  we  find  it  tliere  in  spite  of  the  absence  of  tliose 
causes  to  which  at  first  we  might  be  inclined  to  ascribe  it,  and 
which  in  fact  do  keep  it  alive  with  us  to-day.  Where  woman 
never  appears  in  public,  — where  neither  in  her  own  person  can 
she  cultivate  the  art  nor  encourage  its  growth  among  what 
should  be  her  admirers  of  the  other  sex, — the  art  of  dress  miglit 
well  be  expected  to  languish.  Where  society  as  we  know  the 


COSTUME. 


317 


term  does  not  exist,  who  would  take  the  pains  to  adorn  himself 
with  that  enthusiasm  which  is  born  of  vanity  ? When  special 
times  are  set  apart,  particular  occasional  exertions  can  be 
made ; but  who  can  continuously  remain  at  his  highest  j)itch 
of  endeavor?  Who,  in  short,  can  attend  to  two  things  at 
once  — his  occupation  and  his  appearance  — with  the  zeal 
required  to  advance  both  ? 

But  luxuriant  as  it  is  in  Korea,  it  is  a luxuriance  tempered 
by  despotism.  Not  that  this  in  the  least  curtails  its  variety;  it 
but  allots  and  apportions  the  fruits.  The  sumptuary  laws  are 
as  all-embracing  on  the  one  hand  as  they  are  minute  on  the 
other.  Wliat  a Korean  may  — nay,  what  he  must  — wear,  is 
prescribed  not  by  unwritten  usage,  but  by  binding  statute.  It 
is  only  within  certain  narrow  limits  for  a given  man  at  a given 
time  that  change  is  possible.  But  in  accordance  with  the  rites 
he  is  forever  changing  his  apparel.  He  must  vary  his  clothes 
to  suit  his  age,  his  station  in  life,  his  occupation  of  the  moment. 
From  the  time  that  he  is  first  wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes  till 
he  is  decentl}’  buried  beneath  a mound  of  earth,  he  is  forever 
])assing  into  some  new  phase  of  dress  ; and  then,  on  top  of  this 
secular  variation,  recur  endless  periodic  changes.  The  subject 
of  mourning  alone  would  occup}'  a short  professional  career  to 
master.  The  Avhole  matter  is  a very  important  item  of  the  law 
of  the  land ; it  is  one  branch  of  the  all-embracing  rites.  To 
attend  to  these  questions  of  etiquette  requires  the  abilities  of 
a sixth  part  of  the  talent  of  the  country  ; for  of  the  six  depart- 
ments into  which  the  Government  is  divided,  one  is  the  Re  Cho, 
or  “ board  of  rites,”  whose  duty  it  is  to  prescribe,  regulate,  and 
govern  this  very  thing.  To  the  mind  of  a Korean  its  impor- 
tance is  equal  to  that  of  war  or  finance,  and  the  amount  of 
work  connected  with  it  is  far  greater.  Why  should  it  not  be, 
to  a people  whose  dislike  to  fighting  is  only  exceeded  by  their 
distaste  for  business  ? 


318 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  ]\[OPvNING  CALM. 


As  it  is  so  serious  a matter,  it  is  no  surprise  that  fashions 
change  only  witli  dynasties.  Tlie  fall  of  a ruling  house  is 
equivalent  to  the  setting  of  a new  mode  ; yet  it  is  rather  the 
occasion  than  the  cause,  and  is  the  result  of  a somewhat  distant 
chain  of  foreign  circumstances.  To  understand  it,  we  must 
turn  our  eyes  for  a moment  to  China. 

Instead  of  an  ever-victorious  nation  of  conquerors,  as  one 

t 

might,  from  the  apparent  permanence  of  their  customs,  suppose 
them,  the  Chinese  have  been,  for  many  centuries,  a people 
whose  lot  it  was  to  be  periodically  a prey  to  invasions,  — 
invasions  as  successful  as  successive.  Once  in  about  so  often 
a wave  of  barbarian  conquest,  like  a regularly  recurring  tide, 
has  overrun  and  submerged  the  land.  The  waves  obliterated  in 
})laees  the  old  landmarks,  and  left  their  own  deposits  in  others, 
but  on  the  whole  swept  over  the  solid  monuments  of  the  old 
civilization,  to  pass  away  without  leaving  widespread  destruc- 
tion to  attest  their  visit.  No  sooner  was  the  material  conquest 
completed  than  the  tables  were  turned,  and  the  conquered  be- 
came mentally  the  conquerors.  Yet  it  was  but  a conversion 
in  part ; for  to  a certain  extent  the  foreigners  were  too  attached 
to  some  of  their  own  practices  to  relinquish  them.  They  gen- 
erally clung  to  their  dress,  in  part  at  least.  Not  unnaturally 
to  the  semi-civilized  a change  in  costume  seems,  in  some  occult 
manner,  associated  with  a loss  of  identity.  In  consequence  they 
forced  a j)ortion  of  their  garb  upon  the  natives  ; and,  strangest 
of  all  results,  these  latter  came  to  be  proud  of  what,  in  the 
first  instance,  had  been  imposed  upon  them  as  badges  of  ser- 
vitude. Thus  it  is  that  to-day  the  glory  of  the  Chinaman  lies 
in  the  length  of  his  })laited  cue,  originally  the  most  humiliating 
of  enforced  appendages. 

Preparatory,  usually,  to  subduing  China,  the  invading  hordes 
were  wont  temporarily  to  swallow  up  Korea,  and  force  her  to 
the  payment  of  an  annual  tribute,  which,  either  directly  or  in 


COSTUME. 


319 


consequence  of  the  internal  dissensions  it  kindled,  led  to  her 
change  in  costume. 

The  advent  of  the  last  fashion  was  about  five  hundred  years 
ago,  and  was  in  result  of  the  establishment  of  tlie  Ming  (or 
“ Bright  ”)  dynasty.  We  may,  if  we  please,  see  tlie  glory  of  its 
light  in  the  color  of  its  garments ; for  they  are  a spotless  white, 
tinged  ever  so  slightly  with  a faint  bluish  tint,  like  the  reflec- 
tion from  the  sky  which  we  catch  in  the  color  of  the  shadows 
of  a clear  day. 

We  now  come  to  a most  interesting  episode  in  develop- 
ment,— the  manner,  namel}’,  in  which  woman  has  influenced 
dress  in  Eastern  Asia.  Her  absence  has  been  as  potent  a force 
there  as  her  presence  has  been  elsewhere ; for  I think  we  must 
admit  that  to  lier  indirectly  is  due  the  following  singular  feature 
of  xisiatic  thought. 

The  wa}'  in  which  the  far-Oriental  regards  dress  is  some- 
what peculiar.  I can  think  of  no  simile  so  descriptive  as  the 
connection  we  tacitly  assume  between  spirit  and  bodv.  We 
hardly,  in  ordinary  life,  think  of  the  one  as  devoid  of  the  other, 
and  we  regard  the  latter  as  at  least  the  sense-impression  to  us 
of  the  person  within.  So  do  they  with  dress.  To  their  eyes  it 
forms  an  essential  part  of  their  conception  of  the  man.  Some- 
what in  like  manner  we  are  ourselves  impressed  by  dress,  in 
the  customary  take-at-what-we-see  estimate  of  our  fellows. 
They  differ  from  us  in  carrying  the  real  into  the  ideal. 

This  is  very  strikingly  seen  in  the  matter  of  painting.  Per- 
haps one  of  the  most  notable  features  about  far-Eastern  painting 
is  its  utter  ignoring  of  the  human  figure.  There  is  a com- 
plete void  in  that  branch  which  among  Europeans  has  alwavs 
claimed  much  attention, — the  study  of  the  nude.  To  them 
artistically  man  is  nothing  but  a bundle  of  habits  in  the  sarto- 
rial sense.  The  practice  is  not  due  to  an  excess  of  Avhat  we 
call  modesty.  We  may  perhaps  define  modesty  as  the  veiling 


320 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CAL?.!. 


from  .public  gaze  of  all  of  ourselves,  iii  person  or  in  mind,  ex- 
ce})t  so  much  as  is  sanctioned  to  exposure  by  conventionality. 
Substitute  “necessity”  for  “conventionality,”  and  you  have 
the  far-Eastern  definition.  Convenience,  not  convention,  is  the 
touchstone  of  propriety.  They  have  not  the  smallest  objection 
to  being  seen  in  a state  of  nature  Avhere  occasion  demands  it; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  nothing  would  induce  them  to  exhibit 
any  portion  of  their  })ersons  for  the  purpose  of  display.  To 
them  to  be  clothed  or  naked  is  a matter  of  indifference ; it  is 
merely  a question  of  temporary  comfort.  The  reason  why  they 
disregard  the  body  is  other  than  this.  It  is  simply  that  they 
have  never  been  led  to  regard  the  body  as  beautiful.  That 
this  is  so,  is  due  to  the  low  position  of  woman.  She  has  never 
risen  high  enough  in  their  estimation  to  attain  even  to  that 
poor  level  of  admiration,  — that  of  being  an  object  of  beauty. 
All  that  should  be  her  birthright  they  heap  as  a dowry  upon 
Nature. 

The  study  of  drapery  has  benefited  at  the  expense  of  what 
it  encases,  and  pla}’s  a certain  part  even  in  the  expression  of 
the  emotions. 

Before  proceeding  to  a detailed  description  of  the  series  of 
garments  in  which  the  Korean  wraps  himself,  there  is  one  fea- 
ture, common  to  all,  which  on  the  score  of  art  merits  our  admi- 
ration, — the  method  of  fiistening.  Buttons  and  button-holes 
have  little  or  no  part  in  the  matter.  Ribbons  of  a color  to 
match  the  tunic  to  which  they  are  attached,  or  such  as  to  afford 
an  agreeable  combination,  serve  to  confine  it.  Folding  around 
the  body,  the  right  side  innermost,  each  upper  corner  is  secured 
by  its  pendent  ribbon  to  a corresponding  ribbon  attached  to 
the  flap  against  which  it  lies.  The  inner,  of  course,  is  tied  first, 
and  then  the  other  is  fastened  by  a bow  over  the  right  breast. 
It  is  worth  observing  that  on  the  other  side  of  the  world,  too, 
where  perhaps  we  are  rather  prone  to  expect  contraries,  men 


COSTUME. 


321 


fold  their  robes  about  tliem  in  the  order  of  wrapping  we  ourselves 
observe. 

Clothes  proper  — apart,  that  is,  from  head  or  foot  gear — are 
few  in  variety  and  simple  in  form.  It  is  not  necessary  to  dis- 
tinguish more  than  four  kinds.  These  are  a short  jacket,  loose 
baggy  trousers,  a long  flowing  tunic,  and  a sort  of  stole.  The 
first  two  are  worn  next  the  skin,  and  take  the  place  of  our  un- 
derclothing. As  for  the  tunic,  it  may  be  one  or  many,  de- 
pendent upon  the  state  of  the  weather  and  the  rank  of  the 
wearer.  The  higher  the  station  of  the  man,  the  more  tunics  he 
wears.  The  discomfort  thus  ensuing  upon  importance  is  offset 
by  thinness  of  material.  The  same  principle,  followed  down 
the  scale,  leads  to  the  two  undergarments  as  its  lowest  terms. 
To  a foreign  eye  these  are  as  much  outer  garments  as  any  of 
the  others;  and  for  aught  he  can  see,  the  expression  “more  or 
less  dressed  ” applies  with  strict  literalness  to  a Korean. 

The  next  point  is  the  question  of  color.  In  tliis  respect 
the  Korean  costume  is  distinctly  beautiful.  The  bulk  of  the 
people  dress,  as  I have  said,  in  white,  just  perceptibly  tinged 
with  blue.  It  is  perhaps  unfortunate  to  have  fixed  upon  so 
delicate  a hue,  as  it  would  require  more  than  humanity  to  pre- 
serve it.  The  faint  blue  of  the  Land  of  the  Morning  Calm 
soon  fades,  by  contact  with  the  dirt  of  the  world,  into  the 
gray  of  common  day. 

The  upper  classes  — that  is,  the  officials  — wear  every 
other  color  under  the  heavens  except  this.  Keds,  greens, 
blues,  and  combinations  of  them,  in  the  most  daring  and  effec- 
tive manner,  adorn  their  persons.  A brilliant  scarlet  Avill  over- 
lie  an  under  tunic  of  as  brilliant  a blue,  and  harmonize  in 
places  into  a fine  purple.  Often  the  sleeves  and  the  body  of 
the  dress  are  in  the  most  vivid  contrast.  The  only  rule  seems 
to  be  that  anything  may  go  with  anything  else.  The  Koreans 
are  particularly  a people  who  are  fond  of  color. 

21 


322 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


The  costume  of  the  soldiers  is  a dark  blue  for  the  greater 
part ; in  places  it  is  crimson,  Avith  which  ribbons  effectively 
play  their  part.  Over  the  breast  is  embroidered  the  character 
for  valor.  This  inflammatory  legend  is  doubtless  to  remind 
them,  in  times  of  trial,  who  and  what  manner  of  men  they 
are.  Otherwise  they  are  a fine  but  quiet-looking  lot,  and 
absolutely  need  to  be  labelled  dangerous  to  produce  a proper 
military  effect. 

The  cut  of  the  tunic  is  conventional,  not  to  say  odd.  It  is 
assumed  that  the  waist  lies  on  a line  with  the  armpits.  This  is 
questionable  on  the  score  of  manly  beauty ; but  wlien  it  comes 
to  the  case  of  woman,  the  effect  is  disastrous,  and  causes  even 
the  indifferent  Japanese  humorously  to  comment. 

Female  dress  is  made  up  of  a very  short  jacket,  loose  baggy 
under-trousers,  and  over  the  trousers  a petticoat,  reminding  one 
much  of  the  Western  article.  Though  this  last  is  provided  with 
an  ample  waistband,  and  is  sw^athed  as  high  upon  the  body  as 
it  wall  hold,  without  the  faintest  respect  for  anatomical  struc- 
ture, it  sometimes  fails  to  meet  the  rudimentary  bodice  by  two 
or  three  indies,  and  a slit  exposing  the  breasts  is  the  result.  I 
may  add  tliat  such  unfortunate  exposure  is  not  intentional, 
and  is  only  to  be  seen  among  that  class  whose  lot  is  to  draw 
Avater  at  the  Avells. 

In  the  case  of  the  men,  some  distance  aboA^e  the  place  Avhere 
the  Avaist  really  is,  half  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  to  confine  the 
floAving  robe,  half  as  an  ornamental  badge,  runs  a girdle,  — a 
cord  of  some  brilliant  color,  Avhich  ties  in  a loose  knot  in  front 
and  ends  in  tAvo  large  tassels,  hanging  doAvn  tAvo  feet  directly 
in  front.  Othenvise  the  dress  is  one  continuous  piece,  Avith 
nothing  to  mar  its  lines  of  fall.  The  sleeves  are  exceedingly 
ample,  tAVO  feet  Avide,  and  are  seAved  up  all  their  length  and 
for  half  of  their  breadth  at  the  end.  This  converts  them  into 
the  most  excellent  of  pockets ; for,  hoAvever  the  arm  be  raised 


COSTUME. 


323 


or  swung,  some  part  of  the  sleeve  always  hangs  below  the 
level  of  spill.  From  the  general  assortment  and  bulk  of  what 
it  can  and  does  carry,  it  may  be  looked  upon  as  a natural 
travelling-bag.  Merchants  in  this  way  transport  their  wares, 
scholars  their  books  and  writing  materials,  and  officials  their 
fans.  Tobacco  alone  is  not  so  carried.  That  is  too  much 
an  article  of  momentary  need  to  permit  of  the  spending  the 
time  necessaiy  to  hunt  for  it  among  other  objects.  It  must 
be  borne  where  it  can  at  once  be  nnmistakabl}^  grasped ; so 
it  has  dedicated  to  its  own  particular  use  a pouch  hung  at 
the  waist.  This  pouch  is  worn  from  the  most  infantile  years, 
that  the  husk  may  be  ready  for  the  kernel  of  more  adult  age ; 
for  children  do  not,  as  one  might  otherwise  suspect,  smoke 
from  the  moment  they  step  out  of  the  cradle.  Nevertheless, 
precautions  are  taken  that  the  path  may  be  smoothed  and 
prepared  for  them  in  advance.  Among  adults  of  both  sexes 
smokino-  is  universal.  A man  or  woman  who  does  not  smoke 

o 

finds  it  necessary  to  apologize  to  societ}’. 

Instead  of  meeting  at  an  acute  angle,  the  two  folds  of  the 
tunic  are  cut  out  around  the  neck  so  as  to  join  in  the  form  of 
an  oval.  Fitted  on  to  the  silk,  on  the  inner  side,  is  a white 
band  of  cotton.  It  repi'esents  the  European  collar;  and  it  is 
interesting  to  observe  here,  too,  an  expression  of  the  same 
need  that  is  felt  among  us  of  isolating  within  a white  border 
the  picture  to  be  displayed. 

This  border  of  cotton  — a foil  to  the  face,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  to  the  silk,  on  the  other — leads  me  to  say  a word  about  the 
materials  of  dress. 

In  the  very  earliest  ages,  so  that  not  only  the  memory  of 
man  but  his  legends  before  him  run  not  to  the  contrary,  there 
existed  already,  in  a state  of  domestication,  the  silkworm.  In 
the  character  for  “east”  — one  of  the  oldest  of  the  Chinese  ideo- 
graphs, and  therefore  one  in  which  w'e  can  distinctly  trace  the  old 


324 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


simple  drafting  of  Nature  — the  sun  is  seen  rising  through  the 
branches  of  a tree.  This  tree  is  said  to  represent  the  mulberry. 
With  this  same  idea  is  associated  the  old  legendary  name  for 
Japan,  — the  name  by  which,  first  mythologically  and  then,  the 
m}4h  gradually  clothing  itself  with  reality,  as  a material  fact, 
the  islands  became  known  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  neighbor- 
ing  continent.'  Whether  it  was  there  that  the  mulberry  was 
discovered,  or  whether  it  was  simply  found  there  in  great  num- 
bers and  goodly  specimens,  by  wanderers  from  the  mainland, 
matters  not.  They  called  the  country  Pusang,  and  they  w'rote 
its  characters  to  signify  “ the  mulberry  tree ; ” and  the  tree 
proved  so  great  a blessing  that  they  deified  it,  and  it  became 
to  them  “ the  tree  of  the  gods.” 

In  truth,  by  far  the  most  beneficent  of  Nature’s  gifts  to  the 
people  of  the  far-East  is,  and  has  ever  been,  this  one  of  silk. 
We  insensibly  do  homage,  too ; for  we  have  adopted  with  the 
article  its  time-honored  name,  and  our  word  “ silk  ” is  the 
nearest  approach  in  pronunciation  that  our  predecessors  were 
capable  of  making  toward  the  Chinese  sound. 

Silk  constituted  the  dress  of  the  higher  classes,  while  a spe- 
cies of  hemp,  known  as  grasscloth,  furnished  out  the  common 
people.  One  recommendation  for  this  latter  must  certainly 
always  have  been  its  most  serviceable  mud-color. 

About  the  second  centuiy  of  our  era  the  Chinese  Empire 
received  the  present  of  a new  material.  It  was  probably  at 
the  hands  of  our  own,  though  somewhat  remote,  ancestors  that 
they  first  became  acquainted  with  cotton.  They  would  seem  to 
have  been  much  taken  with  it.  An  emperor  was  so  much  de- 
lighted as  to  have  a dress  made  of  it,  in  which  he  appeared  on 
state  occasions.  They  showed  their  fancy  no  less  strongly  by 
trying  to  keep  the  thing  entirely  to  themselves,  even  refusing  to 
give  their  neighbor,  Korea,  any  of  the  seeds.  In  this  manner 
they  did  contrive  to  prevent  its  introduction  into  the  peninsula. 


COSTUME. 


325 


Attempts  to  get  it  proved  vain.  At  last,  one  of  the  yearly 
ambassadors,  daring  liis  stay  of  three  days  at  Pekin,  managed 
to  possess  himself  of  a few  seeds.  Some  of  these  he  hid  in  the 
liollow  stein  of  his  paint-brush  ; and  then  in  order  to  render 
iissurance  doubly  sure,  he  inserted  some  more  under  the  skin  of 
his  left  leg.  He  succeeded  in  escaping  detection,  and  in  this 
peculiar  manner  cotton  came  into  Korea.  It  was  found  to 
be  a most  happy  mean  between  silk  and  grasscloth,  and  soon 
became  the  material  for  the  dress  of  the  great  bulk  of  the 
people. 

Woollen  is  quite  unknown,  for  there  are  no  sheep  anywhere 
on  the  peninsula  ; but  on  the  score  of  warmth,  wadded  cotton, 
although  perhaps  a little  bulk)*,  serves  equally  well. 

It  is  not  witliout  interest  in  this  connection  to  notice  the  ab- 
sence of  satin.  In  spite  of  the  various  forms  of  silk,  — raw 
silk,  finished  silk,  watered  silk,  — all  much  used,  silk  never 
appears  as  satin ; and  thereby  Korea  loses  much  of  j^ossible 
magnificence. 

I have  spoken  of  grasscloth ; and  I mention  it  again,  not 
on  account  of  any  intrinsic  beauty,  but  for  the  very  appro- 
priate use  to  which  it  is  now  put.  It  is  the  material  of  mourn- 
ing. Singularly  in  keeping  with  its  cause,  as  the  material  is,  it 
is  somewhat  surprising  that  travellers  in  China,  where  the  cus- 
tom is  the  same,  should  liave  been  so  little  impressed  with  the 
harmony  of  the  two  as  to  spread  abroad  tales  that  have  now 
grown  into  a prevalent  misconce})tion.  One  of  the  first  facts  we 
are  given  to  learn  about  the  Celestial  Empire  is  that  white,  in- 
stead of  black,  is  its  badge  of  woe  ; and  we  are  naturally  at  a 
loss  to  understand  the  inversion  of  a custom  which,  above  other 
customs,  seems  to  bear  the  impress  of  Nature’s  sanction  ; for, 
be}'ond  man’s  power  to  sever  the  tie,  white  is  associated  with 
joy,  black  with  sorrow.  Now,  the  answer  to  the  paradox  is 
quite  simple,  — no  such  inversion  exists.  To  call  the  color 


326 


THE  LA:sD  of  the  moening  calm. 


of  a- nioiirner s dress  white  is  a misuse  of  words  equivalent  to  a 
substitution  of  all  color  for  no  color  in  particular.  In  Korea 
especially  does  this  definition  become  an  impossible  means  to 
identify  the  class.  Misled  by  what  I had  been  told,  and  by 
the  same  description  repeated  to  me  by  Koreans  themselves, 
for  the  first  few'  days  I hunted  industriously  but  in  vain  for 
mourners.  Everybody  w'as  dressed  in  white,  and  identifica- 
tion of  individuals  from  any  such  definition  w'as  simply  pre- 
posterous. As  I afterwards  discovered,  those  I sought  were 
clad  in  what  wuxs  the  least  so  of  all,  — what  could,  in  fact, 
only  be  called  so  by  courtesy.  The  truth  is,  the  stuff  is  of 
its  own  natural  unbleached  color,  the  neutral  color  of  dried 
grass.  It  is  exactly  what  I imagine  the  sackcloth  of  Scripture 
to  have  been  like.  It  is  coarse,  poor,  sad. 

Texture  and  tint  alike  forbid  the  joys,  the  beauties,  of  this 
world  an  entrance.  For  a time,  and  by  law'  a very  long  time, 
the  man  has  nought  in  common  with  life;  for  life  means  to  him 
beauty.  If  lacking  apparently  in  ease  of  detection  at  a dis- 
tance, any  danger  of  being  inappropriately  accosted  is  avoided 
by  the  fasliion  of  the  costume,  xvliich  quite  secludes  the  w'earer 
from  the  rest  of  mankind.  In  addition  to  a hat,  many  square 
feet  in  area,  which,  curving  dowuxw'ard  on  all  sides,  effectually 
conceals  the  person  within  it,  he  carries  before  his  face  a respi- 
rator made  of  the  same  sombre  ixxaterial  as  the  dress,  — this 
last  is  a piece  of  cloth  stretched  betw'een  tw'o  sticks,  wdiich, 
being  longer  than  the  cloth  is  wide,  serve  also  as  handles,  — so 
that  as  he  w'anders  through  the  crow'ded  street,  he  remains  as 
utterly  alone  as  if  no  other  lived.  He  is  even  more  solitary, 
for  he  has  not  the  w’orld  of  Nature  to  distract  him  from  the 
introspection  of  his  owm  gloom.  Thus,  for  the  space  of  three 
long  years,  he  hardly  know’s  xvhat  it  is  to  live. 

These  screens,  — or  respirators,  as  they  look  to  be,  and  to 
which  purpose  in  cold  winter  days  they  are  admirably  adapted, 


COSTUME. 


327 


if  Indeed  unintentionally  put  — are  as  inucli  of  an  integral  part 
of  the  dress  as  any  other  portion  of  it.  They  are  not  peculiar 
to  mourners,  — only  the  material  of  Avhich  theirs  are  made  is 
distinctive ; they  are  as  much  a perquisite  of  the  official  class. 
As  the  chair  of  a magistrate  is  hurried  past,  borne  by  four  men 
arranged  tandemwise  in  front  and  behind,  the  sole  occupation  of 
the  arandee,  Avho  sits  cranina'  over  as  if  either  verv  uncomfort- 
able  or  exceedingly  shy,  seems  to  consist  in  holding  one  of  these 
before  the  lower  part  of  his  face.  The  labor  of  holding  it  up 
must  be  a dear  price  to  pay  for  the  luxury  of  dignified  seclu- 
sion. When  not  in  immediate  use,  both  sticks  are  held  between 
the  thumb  and  forefinger.  Even  in  so  insignificant  a matter  as 
this  action  there  is  a right  and  a wrong  way  of  doing  things, 
which,  as  the  following  tale  shows,  may  occasionally  become 
important.  The  story  is  told  of  a man  of  the  lower  orders  who 
tried  by  donning  fine  clothes  to  pass  himself  off  for  one  of  his 
betters.  He  Avas  a blacksmith,  and  he  was  bound  on  a journey 
into  the  country.  He  passed  current  for  Avhat  he  assumed  to 
be,  — not  so  difficult  a matter  in  this  Avorld  elseAvhere  as  in 
Korea,  it  Avould  appear,  — till  the  course  of  his  travels  brought 
him  to  a river.  Now,  in  Korea  the  means  of  crossing  a stream 
is  the  ferry.  Only  in  the  cities  do  such  things  as  bridges  span 
the  current.  On  stepping  into  the  boat  he  took  doAvn  his  screen 
and  held  it  in  his  hand.  The  ferryman  at  once  detected  him 
through  his  fine  clothes  and  assumed  manner,  — not  by  the 
look  of  his  face,  but  by  the  Avay  he  held  his  screen.  He  Avas  a 
blacksmith,  and  accustomed  to  handle  the  huge  chopsticks  with 
Avhich  he  pursued  his  daily  avocation  in  chopstick  fashion.  His 
fiimers  remembered  their  cunning'  AA’liile  his  untutored  mind  AA^as 
ignorant  of  etiquette,  and  so  he  AA'as  caught  holding  the  screen  un- 
suspectingly in  the  manner  habit  had  rendered  a second  nature. 

Foot-gear  in  Korea  is  represented  by  a low  shoe,  a thing 
Avith  the  form  of  a slipper  and  the  solidity  of  a boot,  and  a thick 


328 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


wadded  sock.  The  shoe  is  made  of  leather,  and  is  so  exceed- 
ingly tough  as  to  suggest  an  unfortunate  lack  of  softening 


most  thorough  breaking-in  it  never  becomes  really  comfort- 
able. Here  the  wadded  sock  comes  well  into  play.  It  acts  as 
a buffer  to  the  foot,  both  against  the  cold  and  the  shoe ; and  the 
combination,  — a white  sock  and  an  excessively  open  shoe,  — 
thougli  suggestive,  in  appearance,  of  summer,  is  much  to  be 
preferred  in  bitter  weather  to  our  own.  Especially  is  this 
true  in  the  motionless,  cramped  positions  one’s  feet  assume  as 
a matter  of  necessity  in  the  palanquin,  where  two  feet  and  a 
half  cube  is  one’s  allotted  space. 

The  shoe  is  of  Chinese  origin,  and  appears  to  be,  as  in  fact 
it  is,  an  earlier  and  less  finished  edition  of  what  is  now  worn  in 


fancy  of  temporary  fashion.  Blue  was  in  the  sunshine  of  favor 
a little  while  ago. 


A KOREAN  SOCK. 


processes  in  the  preparation 
of  the  material.  It  is  quite 
open,  with  the  exception  of 
the  toe,  where  a little  top 
leather  and  an  upward  roll 
sug’OT'est  the  turtle  bow  of 
a boat.  This  curvature  at 
the  toes,  combined  with  the 
want  of  flexibility  of  the 
stuff,  renders  the  wearing 
of  the  shoe  with  our  stock- 
ings exceedingly  distressing 
at  first ; and  even  after  the 


A KOREAN  SHOE. 


the  Middle  Kingdom.  Less  orna- 
mented, it  is  also  less  solidly  made, 
in  spite  of  its  unyielding  rigidity. 
Its  color  is  black,  varied  now  and 
again  for  officials  by  some  passing 


COSTUME. 


329 


The  sole  is  made  of  one  piece,  and  on  one  straight  line ; its 
thickness  is  about  a quarter  of  an  inch,  and  is  uniform  through- 
out its  length.  It  has  therefore  no  heel.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  modern  Chinese  shoe  might  be  said  to  be  all  heel,  so  thick 
is  the  multiple  sole. 

In  another  particular  the  soles  differ  from  the  present 
Chinese  foshion.  The  Korean  are  shod  with  nails,  while  the 
Chinese  are  perfectly  smooth.  This  uncouth  workmanship  is 
held  up  to  admiration  by  a certain  tale  touching  its  origin. 
The  story  is  of  one  of  the  many  Chinese  invasions  of  the 
peninsula,  and  the  time  winter.  The  invading  army  numbered 
eight  hundred  thousand ; so  at  least  it  seemed  to  the  terror- 
stricken  eyes  of  the  five  thousand  Koreans  gathered  to  oppose 
their  passage  of  the  Pyong  An  Eiver.  Nevertheless,  both  ar- 
mies advanced  upon  the  ice, — the  Chinese  to  effect  the  cross- 
iim,  the  Koreans  to  await  their  cominw'  near  the  farther  bank 
and  repel  them  if  possible.  The  Chinese  were  shod,  as  usual, 
smooth ; but  the  natives  wore,  as  they  were  accustomed  to  do 
for  ice  travel,  a peculiar  species  of  spiked  shoe,  Avith  which 
they  Avere  enabled  to  run  about  as  though  the  ice  Avere  dry 
land.  The  poor  strangers  slipped,  staggered,  and  fell,  — an 
easy  prey  to  the  Koreans,  avIio  slaughtered  them  by  thou- 
sands. In  consequence  of  this  victory,  the  lucky  shoe  became 
an  object  almost  of  adoration.  It  was  decreed  that  thencefor- 
AA’ard  all  shoes  should  be  made  after  this  pattern,  and  from 
that  time  to  the  present  day  the  national  shoe  is  nailed.  As 
they  are  only  Avorn  out  of  doors,  the  roughness  of  the  sole 
is  quite  compatible  Avith  the  finish  and  neafness  of  the  floors 
AA'ithin. 

Quite  in  keeping  Avith  the  fundamental  Korean  principle, 
that  the  more  on  the  better  dressed,  the  court  boot  is  such  as 
to  suggest  complete  protection  against  the  most  severe  Aveather 
underfoot,  instead  of  the  reception  hall  of  a king;  and  yet,  seen 


330 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  IMOEXIXG  CAL^T. 


in  the  general  costume,  it  is  effective  by  hiding  tlie  gap  of  wliite 
between  tlie  tunic  and  the  slioe  in  tlie  ordinary  dress. 

Then  tliere  is  the  sandal  of 
the  laboring  class,  which  is  the 
exact  opposite  of  the  shoe,  — 
open  where  that  is  shut,  and 
shut  where  that  is  open.  It 
constitutes  a sort  of  just  satire 
upon  the  latter ; for  the  class 
who  use  it  wear  it  for  its  ser- 
viceableness, not  its  looks. 

A KOREAN  BOOT. 

Korean  clothing  is  admirably 
adapted  to  the  purposes  demanded  of  it.  It  is  loose  and  thick 
for  winter,  loose  and  thin  for  summer  Avear.  When  Ave  con- 
sider that  the  climate,  as  regards  heat  and  cold,  is  A^ery  much 
like  our  oavu,  Avith  rather  more  accentuation,  Ave  perceive  a 
j)art  of  the  reason  Avhy  the  dress  must  be  pecjuliarly  Avarm  at 
one  season  and  peculiarly  airy  at  another.  Tlie  other  half 
of  the  same  need  of  Avarmth  lies  in  the  genius  of  the  people. 
Hurry  finds  no  place  in  Eastern  thought.  Tlie  only  tiling 
Avorthy  deA^otion  is  study ; and  that  requires  contemplation, 
not  bustle.  A dignified  demeanor  is  their  ideal  of  action. 
Exercise  — the  passionate  pursuit  of  a section  of  the  Western 
Avorld  and  the  bugbear  of  a necessity  to  another  portion  — is 
utterly  unknoAvn  to  them.  Walking  or  riding  is  only  under- 
taken because  for  some  immediate  object  it  becomes  neces- 
sary. In  olden  times  archery  Avas  in  vogue  among  the  nobles 
because  in  still  older  times  it  Avas  made  use  of  in  Avar;  but 
noAvadays  eA'en  this  has  died  out.  Their  object,  therefore, 
in  apparel,  apart  from  display,  is  to  be  comfortable  in  re- 
pose ; and  this,  after  personal  experience  of  the  comparatiA^e 
comfort  possible  under  their  system  and  our  OAvn,  I can  affirm 
to  be  realized. 


COSTUME. 


331 


I must  close  this  slight  sketch  with  a few  words  on  fans. 
The  reader  is  doubtless  aware  — though  probably  not  witli 
that  suhtilty  of  discrimination,  bred  of  use,  which  distinguishes 
a far-Oriental  — that  there  is  more  than  one  species  of  fan. 
The  Avant  of  a highly  specialized  A'ocabuhuy  is  the  misfor- 
tune consequent  upon  being  born  in  a comparatively  fanless 
land.  Now,  in  the  far-East  it  is  very  different.  In  common 
every-day  fans  there  are  two  all-embracing  varieties,  — namely, 
those  that  fold  up  and  those  that  do  not ; like  the  “a”  and  the 
“not  a”  of  logic, — a universal  and  fundamental  division  in 
tlie  far-East.  Those  that  do  not  fold  up  are  styled,  in  Korean, 
“ tailed  fans,”  from  the  stick  or  caudal  appendage  by  which  they 
are  held.  The  others  are  called  simply  “ folding  fans.”  Each 
class  has  its  own  particular  name  in  both  Japanese  and  Korean  ; 
and  if  you  make  a mistake  from  ignorance  and  ask  for  the  one, 
you  will  assuredly  not  get  the  other.  Besides  these  classes,  they 
distinguish  those  for  men,  women,  and  children.  The  folding 
fans  outraidc  the  tailed  on  account  of  the  greater  ease  with 
Avhich  they  can  be  disposed  of  Avhen  not  in  use.  They  then 
simply  disappear  up  the  sleeve.  Tlie  gift  of  a fan  is  one  of 
the  commonest  of  the  little  presents  which  far-Orientals  are 
constantly  making  to  one  another. 


332 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM, 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

ON  HATS. 

IN  speaking  of  costume,  it  will  be  noticed  that  I have  said 
nothing  about  hats.  Such  omission  is  not  due  to  the  fact 
that  there  are  none.  Quite  the  reverse.  Nor  is  it  because 
what  there  are,  are  in  any  wise  insignificant.  On  the  contrary, 
their  number  is  only  exceeded  by  their  importance.  The  fact 
is,  the  subject  demands  more  than  a chapter  to  itself;  and  even 
so,  justice  can  hardly  be  done  to  the  marvels  of  the  thing. 
Nor  wmuld  it  have  been  becoming  its  dignity  to  have  scattered 
a description  of  it  piecemeal  here  and  there,  as  can  with  effect 
be  done  with  matters  of  less  vital  interest.  Unfortunately,  no 
such  gentle  meandering  of  the  stream  of  thought  is  here  pos- 
sible ; for  such  is  its  importance  to  Koreans  themselves  on 
the  one  hand,  and  such  its  scientific  value  to  the  world  at  large 
on  the  other,  that  a treatise  at  least  seems  to  be  imperative. 
This,  unhappil}",  must  be  deferred.  But  having  become  forci- 
bly impressed,  after  a study  of  the  article  itself,  with  how  little 
is  known  to  us  about  hats,  and  how  interesting  even  a few  facts 
in  the  matter  must  necessarily  prove  to  the  fairer  half  of  man- 
kind, I have  at  last  succeeded  in  condensing,  with  much  an- 
guish to  my  own  feelings  on  the  subject,  what  should  have 
occupied  volumes  into  this  short  essay ; and  little  it  is,  as 
tribute  to  a land  which  would  need  no  other  distinction  than 
that  of  being  known  as  the  land  of  hats. 


ON  HATS. 


333 


Tlie  celebrated  Professor  Teufelsdruck  of  Weissnichtwo 
would  seem  to  have  been  the  first  philosopher  to  appreciate 
the  great  scientific  interest  inherent  in  dress.  In  his  masterly 
treatise  on  clothes,  he  first  directed  the  attention  of  scientists 
to  this  neglected  outskirt  of  their  domain.  But  in  spite  of  his 
labors,  they  have  not  yet  worn  the  subject  threadbare,  how- 
ever shabbily  they  may  have  treated  such  unfortunate  indi- 
vidual specimens  as  have  fallen  to  their  own  personal  use. 
The  hat  especially  would  seem  to  have  been  neglected.  So 
capital  an  omission  can  only  be  explained  by  a reference  to 
the  ill-disguised  but  wholly  undeserved  contempt  in  which  the 
article  is  generally  held,  and  the  consequent  customary  dis- 
respect shown  it  in  ordinary  wear.  Only  in  the  estimation  of 
woman  is  it  deemed  worthy  of  prolonged  reflection  and  affec- 
tionate regard.  By  man  — to  whom  indeed,  from  the  shortness 
of  his  hair,  it  is  a much  more  necessary  appendage  — it  is  only 
affected  in  public  outdoor  use,  and  is  regarded  as  indispen- 
sable, and  valued  accordingly,  in  proportion  to  the  badness 
of  the  weather.  It  is  never  admitted  into  the  intimacy  of 
private  life.  On  entering  the  house  it  is  at  once  banished, 
as  offensive  to  tlie  eye,  to  some  dark  closet. 

The  art  usually  precedes  the  science;  and  perhaps  the  con- 
tinued gray  skies  of  the  north  of  Europe  have  had  their  effect. 
Or,  perhaps.  Nature  attained  the  limit  of  her  creative  ability  in 
the  tall  cylinder  of  fashion,  and  her  powers  could  extend  no 
farther.  In  her  next  attempt  the  stately  edifice  suddenly  col- 
lapsed, as  we  see  in  our  crush  hats  of  to-night.  Disheartened, 
she  has  tried  no  more. 

It  is  quite  different  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe.  There 
the  hat  receives  its  due.  Especially  in  Korea,  the  land  of  hats, 
is  the  hat  honored.  Indeed,  it  is  there  that  one  first  realizes 
the  infinite  possibilities  of  the  genus  hat.  It  descends  on  one 
like  a revelation.  Articles  of  such  aged  familiarity  with  us  as  to 


334 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


liave  acquired  an  undisputed  prescriptive  right  to  their  own 
identity,  turn  out  there,  in  the  most  unexpected  manner,  to  be 
merely  ditferent  varieties  of  hats.  Who,  forsooth,  left  to  his 
own  unaided  speculations,  would  imagine  that  a huge  green 
alpaca  “ family  ’’  umbrella,  to  which  one  instinctively  pays  the 
passing  tribute  of  a shudder,  is  own  cousin  to  one  of  those 
aiiy  nothings,  mere  touches  of  beauty,  known  by  a delicate 
fiction  as  bonnets  I — in  our  scientific  zeal,  we  had  almost  said 
identical  with  it  f For  Korea  was  reserved  the  honor  of  fur- 
nishinor  the  evidence  of  the  connection,  and  thus  of  addino- 
another  and  a most  conclusive  proof  to  the  great  theory  of 
development ; for  it  is  nothing  less  than  adaptability  to  its  en- 
vironment that  has  caused  the  umbrella  to  grow  a stick  and  the 
bonnet  to  lose  its  strings,  — the  last  feeble  vestige  of  the  same 
oro-an.  Koimh  weather  has  imbued  the  one  with  a striving  after 
independence ; its  fiivored  situation  has  been  an  allurement  to 
the  other  to  nestle  its  separate  existence  away. 

The  air  of  the  Morning  Calm  is  not  favorable  to  the  differ- 
entiation of  species.  The  yearly  natural  selection  of  Paris  or 
London  or  New  York  operates  not.  In  consequence  the  genus 
“ kasi,”  or  hat,  has  been  prevented  from  separating  into  widely 
diver<rent  forms.  The  hat  has  remained,  almost  without  excen- 
tion,  a domestic  article.  None  of  its  species  have  become  wild. 
With  us,  now,  the  species  umbrella  has  become  to  a certain  ex- 
tent emancipated.  It  has  acquired  an  existence  of  its  own,  — 
as  is  witnessed,  incidentally,  by  the  ease  with  which  it  changes 
owners.  It  still  owes  man  an  allegiance,  to  be  sure,  but  it  is 
no  longer  directly  associated  with  his  person.  In  Korea  it  is. 
It  is  worn  there  on  the  top  of  the  head,  like  any  other  hat.  This 
possesses  great  advantages.  It  renders  life  in  so  far  the  more 
secure  and  peaceful.  It  is  a thrice  happy  land,  indeed,  where 
a man  does  not  make  love  to  his  friend’s  umbrella.  He  is 
prevented,  because  the  article  in  question,  when  not  upon  its 


ON  HATS. 


335 


owner’s  Lead,  is  safely  tucked  away  in  liis  pocket.  Of  course, 
the  practice  labors  under  the  social  inconvenience  of  not  bein^ 
enough  for  two  ; but  this  is  of  the  less  consequence  in  a land 
where  walks  are  always  single  in  intent,  and  the  umbrella  is 
never  called  upon  for  a double  entente  in  service.  Man  has  there 
no  tete-a-ietes  by  inclination,  which  is  fortunate,  as  even  the 
fair-weather  hats  in  vogue  onl}’-  permit  a most  distant  approach 
of  the  two  heads,  quite  incompatible  with  any  satisfactory 
understanding. 

Still  it  is  a great  convenience  to  be  able  to  pocket  one’s 
umbrella.  It  is  a pol}’gonal  cone  of  oiled-paper,  of  a deep 
yellow  color,  and  is  tied  over  the  hat,  the  strings  fastening  un- 
der the  chin.  It  folds  up  into  a praiseworthy  small  compass, 
and  disappears  mysteriously  up  the  wearer’s  sleeve  Avlien  the 
weather  clears. 

The  genus  “kasi,”  being  prevented  from  separating  itself  into 
distinct  species,  has  developed  all  the  greater  number  of  varie- 
ties. When  our  museums  shall  have  realized  the  importance  of 
a systematized  collection  of  hats,  Korea  will  become  the  collec- 
tor’s paradise  ; for  the  number  of  different  kinds  to  be  found 
there  is  simply  enormous.  Nor  are  the  vai-iations  by  any  means 
empirical.  Each  hat  is  adapted  to  a special  purpose.  There  are 
hats  for  fair  weather,  hats  for  foul,  indoor  hats,  outdoor  hats, 
every-day  hats,  court  hats,  immense  hats,  almost  no  hat ; in 
short,  every  condition  of  the  heavens  above,  or  of  man's  brain 
beneath,  finds  its  appropriate  expression  in  some  particular  hat. 

A study  was  once  made  in  Europe  of  the  character  of  the 
passers-b}’,  from  the  appearance  of  the  lower  six  inches  of  their 
persons,  as  these  were  seen  upon  the  sidewalk  from  a basement 
window.  Take  the  top  six  in  Korea,  and  you  have  an  equally 
good  criterion  for  the  determination  of  your  man. 

The  common  outdoor  hat  — the  Tiasi  popularis  Koreansis  — 
is  a truly  fine  invention,  worth}’  of  ranking,  for  meaningless 


336 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


THE  ORDINARY  EVERY-DAY  HAT. 


absurdity  of  form,  with  our  own  tall  hat  of  fashion.  It  has  a 
small  circular  truncated  conical  crown,  some  five  inches  in 

diameter  at  the  base,  tapering 
to  four  at  the  top,  and  about  as 
many  inches  high,  and  a broad 
circular  brim,  eighteen  inches 
across ; that  is,  it  looks  like  a 
patent  fly-trap.  It  is  made  of 
very  fine  split  bamboo  and  silk 
in  the  finer  specimens.  The 
bamboo  forms  the  skeleton 
upon  which  is  woven  the  silk. 
But  so  delicate  is  the  work 
that  for  the  unpractised  eye 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  detect  which  is  which  of  the  two 
materials.  In  the  cheaper  specimens  the  whole  is  woven  of 
horse-hair.  The  geometrical  patterns  thus  introduced,  in  the 
weaving,  from  the  shape,  as  well  as  others  woven  there  from 
mere  wantonness  of  ornament,  are  most  beautiful.  Unfortu- 
nately, these  could  not  be  brought  out  in  the  cut.  The  hat 
is  kept  in  place  by  broad  black  ribbons  tied  under  the  chin, 
and  is  itself  of  a uniform  glossy  black. 

In  prehistoric  times  the  thing  may  have  been  susceptible 
of  removal ; but  now,  long  since,  it  has  grown  to  its  present 
position,  and  no  Korean  can  in  decency  appear  without  it, 
except  only  to  make  room  for  some  other  hat.  A man 
would  part  with  any  or  all  his  clothing  sooner  than  take  off 
his  hat.  On  entering  a house,  he  leaves  his  shoes  outside  to 
await  his  return,  but  he  and  his  hat  go  in  together.  As 
he  sits  down  to  eat,  he  divests  himself  of  his  outer  garments 
that  he  may  eat  with  the  greater  freedom,  but  his  hat  stays 
on  ; and  so  it  sticks  to  him  through  life,  — a permanent  black 
halo. 


ox  HATS. 


337 


THE  SCULL-CAP,  AVITH  THE  MITRE- 
HAT  OVER  IT. 


Next  in  importance  to  the  hat  proper  — for  it  is  emphatically 
such  in  both  senses  — is  the  black  scull-cap,  after  the  fashion  of 
the  nightcap  of  our  ancestors.  It 
may  be  described  as  a species  of 
hat  underclothing.  All  classes 
above  the  very  lowest  wear  it  all 
the  time  under  the  above-men- 
tioned Icasi  populans.  It  again 
is  of  silk  or  horse-hair,  accord- 
ing to  its  cpiality,  and  is  not  so 
stiff  as  its  outer  enveloj^e.  Its 
/orm  is  pyramidal,  after  the  style 
once  so  fashionable  for  jelly 
moulds.  It  rises  ten’ace-like  back- 
Avards,  and  baffles  description.  Like  its  predecessor,  it  has  lost 
all  poAver  of  changing  its  habitat.  It  cleaA’es  closer  eA^en  than 
the  last,  and  remains  a faithful  attendant  to  the  head  in  its  jour- 
ney into  the  land  of  dreams. 

Constant  it  ought  to  be ; for  it  is  the  most  essential  of  at- 
tributes. To  it  a person  OAves  his  position  in  society.  A man 
is  much  more  firmly  bound  to  his  hat  than  he  is  attached  to  his 
Avife.  He  may  put  aAvay  the  latter ; Avithout  the  former,  life  be- 
comes a holloAV  mockery,  for  the  hat  makes  the  man.  AVithout 
it  he  remains  foreA'er  a boy.  For  this  reason  is  the  ceremony  of 
inA’estiture  becomingly  solemn. 

iMan  is  born  a tailed  animal.  In  one  long  braid  his  jet-black 
tresses  caress  his  back.  He  takes  his  cue  from  antiquity,  and 
he  ties  the  tip  up  aa  ith  black  ribbon,  as  fits  a present  from  the 
deceased.  Like  unto  a lass  at  first,  his  appearance  deceiA*es 
eA'en  those  avIio  haA*e  IHed  for  years  in  neighboring  Japan  into 
the  belief  that  he  is  a girl.  At  this  stage  of  his  Korea  he  is 
innocent  of  the  delights,  the  honors,  of  the  hat.  His  modesty 
and  his  thick  coarse  hair  are  his  onh*  head-coA^erino’. 

V O 


oo 


338 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


Perhaps  it  is  only  the  debased  Western  taste  which  wor- 
ships the  soul  through  the  medium  of  the  tresses.  At  any  rate, 
the  Korean  boy  does  not  adore  his  own.  At  the  first  j)0ssible 
opportunity  he  cuts  them  off;  and  they  disappear,  — some,  we 
are  informed,  to  Europe,  to  appear  again  in  society  there  under 
somebody  else’s  name.  But  in  spite  of  the  fashionable  art 
being  a matter  of  course,  the  article  itself  was  so  coarse 
a matter  that,  exported  to  supply  the  ravages  of  time  among 
the  belles  of  Paris,  it  was  found  not  to  blend  sufficiently  with 
the  native  growth  to  deceive  even  the  least  experienced  of 
admirers.  What  remains  to  the  original  Korean  possessor  he 
twists  lovingly  round  a stick  of  coral  or  amber,  that  it  may 
stand  upright,  and  encases  it  safe,  even  from  soap  and  water, 
within  its  nest  of  hats. 

This  change  in  hair-dressing  is  the  most  important  event  in 
any  Korean’s  life.  It  may  take  place  at  seven  years  of  age, 
and  commonly  does  take  place  before  he  has  reached  fourteen. 
By  it  he  becomes  a man,  as  we  should  say,  legally  and  socially, 
or,  more  truly  to  conform  to  Eastern  ideas,  patriarchally.  It 
is  similar  to  the  donning  of  the  toga  virilis  in  Rome.  There 
exists  one  slight  difference  in  that  it  is  accompanied  by  a 
necessary  though  otherwise  unimportant  conditionary  act,  — 
namely,  marriage.  Matrimony  has  a sort  of  reciprocity  in 
common  in  Soul  and  Paris.  It  is  a stepping-stone  to  station 
in  both,  — to  man  in  the  one,  to  woman  in  the  other.  What  to 
a girl  in  the  gay  capital  is  the  latch-key  to  pleasure,  to  the 
boy  in  Korea  is  the  gateway  to  life.  We  need  liardly  remark 
that  tlie  consequences  to  the  other  halves  in  the  contract,  in 
both  countries,  are  not  so  important. 

Then,  again,  the  various  stages  in  the  consummation  of  the 
affair  are  marked  by  different  hats.  The  preparatory  stage, 
the  betrothal,  is  characterized  by  the  wearing  of  a hat  of 
yellow  straw,  but  otherwise  after  the  fashion  of  the  ordinary 


ON  HATS. 


339 


one ; the  accoinplisliment  of  the  deed,  by  the  full-fledged  black 
silk. 

He  has  now  won  his  halo ; but  if  his  blood  be  blue  and  his 
poems  numerous,  he  may  develop  wings  and  soar  into  the 
presence  of  his  sovereign.  When  you  have  become  quite 
used  to  the  ordinary  hat,  so  that  it  ceases  to  be  in  any  Avay 
a diverting  object  and  you  have  come  to  look  upon  it  with  the 
indifferent  glance  you  bestow  upon  any  well-known  detail  of 
a familiar  landscape,  the  court  hat  will  still  be  found  capable 
of  rousing  your  dormant  attention.  It  is  made  of  the  same 
material  as  the  others,  but  differs  in  shape.  A high  oval  crown, 
with  a step  in  it  half-way 
up,  fits  tightly  over  the 
forehead,  and  on  either  side 
of  it  are  attached  wings. 

These  are  said  by  some  to 
be  an  apotheosis  of  the  hu- 
man ear,  and  to  typify  the 
alacrity  with  which  the 
royal  commands  are  re- 
ceived ; for  everywhere  to 
obey  is  first  to  hear.  The 
a})pendnges  are  shaped  like 

paddles  with  the  concave  side  in  front.  They  impart,  as  they 
are  meant  to  do,  a certain  seraphic  appearance  to  the  court ; 
and  it  is  the  ambition  of  the  whole  nation  to  become  this  spe- 
cies of  ministering  angel  to  its  sovereign.  The  grades  in  rank 
are  marked,  among  other  ways,  by  a difference  in  wings.  The 
higher  the  position  the  thicker  the  Avings,  — the  stuff  being 
fashioned  two-ply  instead  of  single.  Even  his  Majesty  is  bon- 
neted after  the  same  fashion,  only  that  his  wings  stand  erect 
instead  of  projecting  at  the  sides ; his  suzerain,  the  Emperor 
of  China,  being  too  far  off  to  be  supposed  within  ear-shot. 


A COURT  HAT. 


340 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


So  much  for  some  of  the  out-door  hats  belonging-  to  one 
person,  — hats,  that  is,  which  can  he  worn  out  of  doors;  for  all 
out-door  hats  are  also  in-door  hats,  but  all  in-door  hats  are 
not  necessarily  out-door  ones.  For  instance,  there  is  the  beau- 
tiful mitre  hat.  This  is  only  worn  in  the  strictest  desJiahille. 
One’s  intimates  alone  have  an  opportunity  to  view  it.  To  be 
seen  wearing  it  upon  the  street  would  be  highly  improper. 
In  shape  it  is  canonical,  the  apotlieosis  of  tlie  pontifical  tiara. 
Anatomically  speaking,  it  is  structurally  the  same,  — a frame- 
work of  black  silk,  but  nothing  more ; cloven,  turreted,  pin- 
nacled, yet  without  body  and  without  weight ; something  like 


A MITRE  HAT,  THE  CUE  SEEN 
UNDERNEATH. 


THE  “ CHEF-DE-CUISINE  ” HAT, 
NOT,  HOWEVER,  A CULINARY 
BADGE. 


what  we  might  suppose  the  other  would  become  if  ever  the 
Church  abandons  its  dogma  of  material  supremacy  and  confines 
itself  solely  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Tliere  is  a certain  fit- 
ness in  the  form  of  this  hat.  In  a land  Avhere  the  worship 
of  ancestors  is  the  only  religion,  every  man  is  perforce  his  own 
high-priest,  and  may  therefore  with  propriety  wear  the  priestly 
insignia. 

Then  there  is  the  clief-de-cuisine  hat.  This  is  not  affected 
by  cooks,  but  is  worn  by  almost  any  other  class  indiscrimi- 
nately, from  soldiers  to  shopmen.  It  is  sometimes  black. 


0^  HATS. 


341 


sometimes  white.  Tims  for  we  have  been  describing'  small 
hats, — those,  that  is,  whose  size  did  not  require  to  be  esti- 
mated in  square  feet.  As  for  the  large  hats,  they  are  repre- 
sented by  two  imposing  varieties,  — the  bull-driver’s  and  the 
mourner’s  hats ; the  kasi  gigantea  incognita,  divided  into  hovi- 
ensis  and  lacrimans.  They  both  serve  the  purpose  of  en- 
tirely concealing  the  wearer  from  his  fellow-men.  In  the 
case  of  the  bull-driver  it  is  probably,  judging  from  per- 
sonal experience,  that  he  may  jostle  aside  foot-passengers 
and  then  plead  the  excuse  of  not  seeing  them.  AVith  the 
mourner  it  is  to  help  him  withdraw  from  an  unsympathetic 
world,  Avhile  still  pursuing  his  ordinary  avocations.  These 
two  huge  perambulant  mushrooms  are  at  first  mistaken  for 
each  other;  and  the  reverently  disposed  conrteously  makes 
way  for  what  he  takes  to  be  a mourner,  to  find  that  he  has 
been  imposed  upon  by  a bull-herd.  Nowhere  is  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  geometry  more  necessary  for  the  keeping 
of  one’s  self-respect ; for  it  is  all  a question  between  the  hex- 
agonal and  the  square.  Both  hats  are  made  of  plaited  straw, 
and  both  are  in  the  form  of  inverted  colossal  sonp-plates.  The 
easiest  discrimination  at  first  is  to  look  for  the  bull.  But  this 
is  unscientific,  and  if  the  bull-driver  happens  tenqiorarily  to 
have  parted  with  his  animal,  misleading.  The  important  dif- 
ference lies  in  the  plaiting.  One  is  so  woven  as  to  end  in  a 
square  at  the  bottom,  — this  is  the  bull-driver’s;  while  the  other, 
the  mourner’s,  has  a six-sided  rim.  The  mourner’s  is  of  finer 
work  and  a heavier  hat,  — more  distressing  to  carry  round. 
The  plaiting  is  so  managed  as  to  run  into  itself  at  the  top 
Avithout  a break,  — endlessly,  if  Ave  may  so  express  it,  — after 
the  analogy  of  a chain.  One  cannot  but  study  and  admire, 
as  he  OA'ertakes  the  moving  mass  of  sackcloth  in  its  Avalk,  the 
tAvo  apparent  inconqiatibilities  harmonized,  — the  square  at 
the  bottom,  the  round  at  the  top,  — corners  that  deA^elop  out 


342 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


of  nothing,  angles  that  vanisli  into  elemental  flatness.  Mean- 
while the  hat  is  slowly  proceeding,  Avith  presumably  a man 
under  it. 

The  superficial  area  of  each  of  these  hats  is  about  six  square 
feet.*  To  travel  through  life  forever  in  one’s  own  shadow,  — 
it  cannot  be  broadening  in  its  effect  on  anything  but  the  liat. 
The  mourners  have  the  best  of  it ; their  term  is  only  for  three 
years. 

The  soldier’s  hat  is  almost  the  onl}"  species  we  find  breaking 
out  into  color.  Even  the  rank  and  file  Avear  a band  of  red 
tape  — a most  pleasingly  delicate  suggestion  of  discipline  — to 
relieve  the  sombre  hue  of  the  black  felt;  Avhile  among  the  head- 
coA^erings  of  the  officers  decoration  runs  riot.  Plumes  of  the 
gaudiest  colors  and  brilliant  ribbons  vie  Avith  one  another  in 
spreading  over  the  ample  brim.  Where  the  useful  is  not  de- 
manded of  Nature,  she  can  deA’ote  all  her  energies  to  ornament. 
The  army  is  for  home  duty  entirely,  in  the  strictest  sense  of 
the  term.  It  is  for  the  purpose  of  swelling  the  king’s  retinue 
on  procession  days,  and  of  being  detailed  in  squads  to  perform 
the  same  function  at  promenades  of  the  magistrates.  In  old 
times  it  minded  strictly  its  own  business,  and  let  foreign  armies 
alone  as  much  as  possible.  It  looks  now  as  if  evil  communi- 
cations from  Avithout  Avere  gradually  corrupting  its  inherited 
innocency. 

It  may  not  be  Avholly  out  of  place  here  to  mention  a bit 
of  discovery  relating  to  this  liat.  One  day,  in  the  course  of 
our  Avanderiims  throimh  the  citA'  of  Soul,  Ave  stumbled  across  a 
military-hat  shop.  As  it  Avas  tlio  most  remarkable  shop  Ave 

^ To  show  that  this  is  no  exaggeration,  I may 
say  that  the  hat  is  of  the  general  form  of  a flattened 
hemisphere,  with  a diameter  of  between  two  feet  and 
two  feet  and  a half.  Using  the  formula  27rr  for  the 
superficial  area,  and  then  deducting  something  for 
difference  of  shape,  we  get  about  six  stjuare  feel. 


ON  HATS. 


343 


ever  saw,  we  may  perhaps  be  pardoned  the  digression.  It  Avas 
built  like  all  ordinary  houses,  about  seven  feet  high  in  front, 
rising  to  ten  at  the  back,  Avith  a tile-roof  that  SAvooped  doAvn 
from  the  ridge-pole  toAvards  the  street.  It  had  nothing  at  all 
pretentions  about  it.  With  the  exception  of  a A’ery  narroAv 
door,  it  shoAved  a solid  Avail  of  masonry  to  the  passer-by. 
Nature  had  evidentl}'  intended  it  for  respectable  privacy  rather 
than  for  gaudy  di.splay.  But  Avhere  there  is  the  Avill  in  Korea 
to  liaA'e  a shop,  there  is  abvays  the  Avay  in  front  to  utilize  for 
the  purpose.  On  a stand  before  the  house,  some  distance  off 
by  itself  in  the  street,  Avere  ranged  roAvs  of  black  felt  hats,  and 
on  the  adjacent  earth  Avere  reposing  more.  But  this  Avas  noth- 
ing, — only  the  commonest  of  tricks.  It  Avas  on  glancing  np- 
Avard  that  the  full  ingenuity  of  the  shopkeeper  came  into  view. 
The  roof  Avas  of  such  a heifflit  and  slant  that  from  a little  Avav 
off  its  upper  surface  Avas  seen  to  great  advantage.  Like  the 
better  class  of  roofs,  it  AA’as  composed  of  scroll-tiles  in  parallel 
rows,  — an  arrangement  Avhich  left  intermediate  lines  of  valley. 
Korean  genius  saw  its  opportunity.  The  happy  thought  had 
occurred  to  the  proprietor  to  use  these  valleys  as  shoAv-cases 
for  the  exhibition  of  more  hats ; and  so  there  they  lay  in  roAvs 
on  the  roof,  in  true  military  file,  challenging  customers. 

These  are  a few  specimens  of  the  male  hats.  Female  hats 
are  not  Avell  represented.  There  are  only  two  aureoles  Avhich 
fashion  has  deigned  graciously  to  accord  to  the  fair  sex,  aa’Iio, 
in  Korea,  are  shut  out  from  the  kingdom  of  this  Avorld,  — only 
tAvo,  that  is,  that  in  the  present  incomplete  state  of  the  collec- 
tion have  reAvarded  our  research.  Of  these  but  one  is  extant ; 
the  other,  unfortunately,  extinct.  The  latter  is  interesting  from 
its  family  connection.  It  is  the  great-aunt,  if  not  the  actual 
ancestress,  of  the  fringed  parasol.  Perhaps,  Avithout  our  being 
quite  conscious  of  it,  a certain  piquancy  in  the  coquetiy  of  this 
article  of  feminine  apparel  may  come  to  it  from  the  precisely 


344 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


contrary  intention  wliicli  designed  its  progenitress.  That  fringe, 
•svliich  now  the  more  ravishingly  reveals  by  partially  conceal- 
ing, was  at  first  invented,  not  that  admirers  sufficiently  zealous 
might  look  in,  but  that  the  object  herself  might  in  emergencies 
look  out.  Perched  securely  on  top  of  the  black  tresses  gath- 
ered into  a knot  behind,  rested  the  hat.  From  its  ample  brim 
hung  down  a deep  fringe  two  feet  long,  troni  within  whose 
cliarmed  circle  alone  beauty  held  a distant  converse  with  the 
world.  Every  now  and  then,  the  better  to  see  some  desired 
object,  we  may  fancy  a j)retty  hand  — for  we  are  bound  to  be 
gallant  to  the  past  — would  part  the  concealing  tassels,  which, 
the  hasty,  startled  glance  over,  would  fall  back,  as  if  conscious 
of  their  duty,  into  their  former  place. 

This  was  of  the  fiisliion  before  the  last,  and  passed  away,  in 
due  course  of  revolution,  some  five  centuries  ago.  Fashions 
change  rather  more  slowly  in  the  far-East  than  in  the  capital  of 
European  millinery.  Instead  of  the  Em^^ress  of  the  French, 
the  court  at  Pekin  sets  the  fashion ; and  a new  mode  once  a 
dynasty  is  considered  ample  to  meet  tlie  demands  of  the  most 
fickle  of  tastes.  A change  of  dynasty  happens,  on  an  average, 
once  in  every  two  hundred  years,  and  in  consequence  of  an 
overtl'.row  of  the  ruling  race  by  a new  foreign  one.  From 
Pekin  each  new  style  found  its  way  into  comparatively  provin- 
cial Korea.  But  at  last  the  conservative  Koreans,  who  had  no 
such  excuse  as  a change  of  nationality  in  the  ruling  house  for 
an  alteration  in  their  clothes,  grew  tired  of  changing  their  dress 
just  as  they  had  got  accustomed  to  it,  and  for  five  centuries  have 
preferred  to  stick  to  one  style  of  hats,  even  at  the  expense  of 
being’  considered  a trifle  old-fashioned.  The  change  in  policy 
was  rather  unfortunate  for  the  poor  women ; for  it  so  happened 
that  just  at  that  moment  they  were  left,  by  accident  or  by  the 
caprice  of  fate,  hatless,  and  what  would  have  been  but  a tem- 
porary discomfort,  even  supjDosing  that  it  was  recognized  as  a 


ON  HATS. 


345 


discomfort  at  all,  — such  is  the  callousness  to  actual  inconven- 
ience wliich  fashion  is  able  to  engender,  — has  been  prolonged 
into  an  inherited  loss.  They  have  been  obliged,  in  place  of 
hats,  to  call  into  requisition  old  green  gowns ; self-evidently 
a makeshift,  for  they  still  possess  sleeves  which  now  have  no 
employment,  and  dangle  helplessly  at  the  side,  as  the  gowns, 
used  for  mufflers,  are  thrown  over  everything,  — head  and 
all,  — and  are  held  together  from  the  inside  by  tlie  hand. 

The  other  kind  above-mentioned  — the  extant  species  — is 
quite  pretty.  All  women  may  wear  it,  but  very  few  do. 
Practically  it  is  purely  professional,  and  is  therefore  to  be  met 
with  in  very  small  numbers.  It  is  an  attractive  little  thing, 
both  on  its  own  account  and  from  the  nature  of  those  who  wear 
it.  It  is  an  exact  counterpart  of  a vivandiere’s  cap,  and  is 
worn  by  all  geisha,  — those  stars  of  Korean  as  of  Japanese 
society.  If  all  is  fair  in  love  and  war,  — only  that  Ave  prefer 
to  read  the  adjecti\’e  as  meaning  “beautiful,” — AAliy  should 
not  like  caps  be  the  distinctive  mark  of  the  ministering  angels 
in  both  cases  ? As  there  ai'e  but  twenty  of  these  damsels  in 
all  Soul,  specimens  of  the  hat  are  rare. 

Such  are  a few  of  the  types  of  the  genus  “kasi.”  There  are 
many  others  Avhose  discussion  Avould  prove  highly  interesting- 
in  an  extended  treatise  on  the  subject;  but  time  prevents  our 
attempting  as  yet  so  valuable  a work.  We  see  rising  before 
us  Avhole  vistas  of  hats  Avaiting  impatiently  to  be  catalogued ; 
and  reluctantly,  most  reluctanth',  Ave  turn  aAvay.  But  for  the 
present  it  must  suffice  to  haA-e  indicated  the  salient  points  of 
the  subject.  One  deduction,  in  passing,  Ave  may  draAv  from  it. 
The  opening  of  the  hermit-land  lias  not  been  Avholly  Avithout 
result  to  the  e\’er-grasping  hand  of  science ; for  has  it  not 
throAvn  some  light  upon  the  solution  of  the  important  sumptu- 
ary problem,  so  oft  propound3d  in  vain,  “Is  it  a bonnet  or  a 
hat  ? ” 


346 


TPIE  LAND  OF  THE  JMORXIXG  CALM. 


AVe  conclude  this  with  a brief  notice  of  another  quite  un- 
looked-for bit  of  proof,  — and  very  valuable,  were  such  indeed 
still  at  all  necessary  to  the  establishing  of  our  theoiy,  — the 
evolution  of  a new  species  of  hat,  a hybrid,  which  suddenly 
made  its  appearance  in  the  capital.  It  was  due  to  an  unex- 
pected interfertilization  of  representatives  of  the  Eastern  and 
Western  branches  of  the  family,  thereby  yielding  still  further 
evidence  of  a community  of  origin.  Its  form  it  derived  from  the 
foreign  sojourner,  its  material  from  the  native  stock.  We  should 
hardly  have  deemed  our  old  felt  hat  — a chapeau  d'occasion,  as 
we  must  confess  it  had  fully  become  — worthy  of  the  honor, 
still  less  should  we  have  imagined  the  possibility  of  any  such 
affiliation  ; but  this  is  what  happened.  We  were  one  day  asked 
by  one  of  our  Korean  friends  — in  that  suspiciously  artless  man- 
ner which  suggests,  by  its  too  evident  assumption  of  indiffer- 
ence, the  something  coming  — 
for  the  loan  of  our  hat  for  a day 
or  two.  Of  course  we  acceded, 
and  of  course  we  discreetly  sus- 
pected nothing,  albeit  the  denoue- 
ment of  a similarly  pious  fraud 
from  the  legation  a few  months 
before,  which  had  been  related 
to  us,  in  some  wise  prepared  us 
for  the  result.  The  matter  Avas 
rendered  all  the  more  ominous 
from  the  a})proach  of  the  Ko- 
rean New  \enr,  — a season  of  universal  rejoicing  and  present- 
making. Several  days  passed  by,  and  to  all  appearance  we  had 
quite  forgotten  our  poor  old  servitor,  — so  heartless  in  remem- 
brance is  Aveak  humanity  to  its  nearest  and  dearest,  — Avhen, 
in  course  of  time,  it  got  to  be  New  Year’s  eve,  and  Ave  Avere  sit- 
ting in  our  study,  aAvaiting  the  cook’s  preparations  for  dinner. 


THE  HYBRID. 


ox  HATS. 


347 


when  suddenly  we  heard  a noise  as  of  much  tramping  and 
many  voices  outside.  Tlie  next  moment  tlie  sliding  panels 
were  pushed  aside,  and  there  entered  a procession  accom- 
panying' the  hearers  of  two  huge  oil-paper  mountains, — hat- 
cases,  as  they  turned  out  to  he,  — which  the  hearers  then 
reverently  deposited  upon  the  table.  The  procession  then  ex- 
plained, with  hecoming  formality  and  importance,  that  the 
huge  oil-paper  handhoxes  were  New  Year’s  gifts  from  his 
Majesty.  At  the  same  time  our  own  hat  was  handed  hack 
to  us  with  a ceremony  suggestive  of  the  termination  of  a 
successful  juggler’s  trick.  On  opening  the  cases,  amid  the 
breathless  expectancy  of  tlie  attendant  midtitude,  each  box  was 
found  to  contain  wliat  looked  like  the  apotheosis  of  our  bor- 
rowed hat.  It  preserved  its  form  with  scrupulous  exactness, 
and  seemed  to  he  its  spirit ; for  it  was  singularh'  destitute  of 
body.  It  was  made  of  finely  woven  black  silk,  so  immaterial 
in  essence  that  when  put  on,  the  most  casual  observer  could 
easily  detect  through  its  meshes  the  head  inside.  In  material 
it  perfectly  resembled  the  Korean  silk  hat,  from  which  same 
stuff,  indeed,  it  had  been  woven.  It  thus  itself  furnished  un- 
mistakable evidence  of  its  parentage.  As  is  always  the  case 
with  new-born  children,  the  followers  of  each  party  at  once 
saw  in  it  a strikino'  likeness  to  the  hat  beloim-ino-  to  the  other 

o o o 

side  of  its  family  pedigree. 

So  much  for  what  can  be  gleaned  about  the  origin  of  the 
hat  from  what  it  still  is  ; let  us  now  glance  at  some  further 
evidence  coming  from  what  it  is  called.  To  do  this  we  shall 
go  back  from  Korea  to  Japan. 


348 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


AN  OUT-OF-THE-WAY  CORNER  IN  LANGUAGE. 

S is  well-known,  the  umbrella  is  not  indigenous  to  Europe. 


It  was  imported  thither  from  the  East  within  historic 
times,  and  it  has  come  down  to  us  from  a past  Avhen  its  use  was 
very  different  from  wliat  it  is  to-day.  In  travelling  westward, 
it  journeyed  also  northward,  and  in  doing  so,  got  into  more 
and  more  inclement  climates,  until  the  idea  of  it  came  to  be 
associnted  with  bad  weather.  But  originally  it  was  not  so. 
In  fact,  its  present  name  — a name  which  has  survived  a pur- 
pose — points  to  the  sunshine,  not  the  rain.  “ The  little 
shade”  sug’gests  by  antithesis,  in  all  its  oppressive  languor, 
a wide  and  weary  world  of  glare  and  beat. 

In  Japan,  too,  we  find  a kindred  name,  though  a twofold 
use.  There,  pointing  to  a like  origin,  it  is  called  “ higasa,”  or 
“sun-hat;”  but  it  defends  in  turn  from  either  the  sunbeam  or 
the  shower.  Though  it  did  not  come  to  us  from  Japan,  still 
something'  mav  be  learned  of  its  origin  there ; and  it  is  inter- 
esting  to  observe  that  Avhile  the  first  half  of  its  compound 
name  gives  us  information  as  to  what  it  was  for,  the  second 
tells  us  something  of  what  it  was.  There  it  is  still  recognized 
as  belonging  to  the  hat  trilje.  The  evidence  of  name  in  Japan 
bears  out,  as  a connecting  link  in  the  chain  of  argument,  the 
evidence  of  fact  in  Korea.  To  understand  this  Ave  shall  have 
to  take  a short  excursus  into  a peculiarity  of  that  most  peculiar 
and  fascinating  of  studies,  the  Japanese  language. 


AN  OUT-OF-THE-WAY  COENER  IN  LANGUAGE. 


349 


The  Japanese  language  is  based,  not  upon  an  alphabet,  but 
upon  a syllabary.  All  Japanese  words  are  built  up  from  a 
choice  out  of  a set  of  only  forty-eight  possible  syllables.  Now, 
were  their  words  as  long  in  syllables  as  ours  are  in  letters, 
combinations  would  be  even  more  numerous  than  with  us, 
where  they  are  practically  limitless.  But  this  is  not  the  case. 
By  far  the  greater  number  of  words  are  either  dissyllabic  or 
trisyllabic,  longer  ones  than  these  being  mostly  old  compounds, 
some  of  which  still  retain  their  early  meaning,  while  others, 
like  the  inflectional  terminations  of  verbs,  have  lost  it.  It  is 
therefore  the  same  as  if  our  words  were  only  two  or  three 
letters  long.  Naturally  combinations  are  very  restricted;  and 
from  this  dearth  it  follows  that  words  of  the  same  sound, 
though  of  quite  different  meaning,  are  necessarily  exceedingly 
numerous.  This  quality  renders  it,  of  all  languages,  the  most 
suitable  for  doubles  ententes.  Indeed,  if  it  be  true,  as  we  are 
told,  that  speech  was  the  gift  of  the  gods  to  men,  the  Japan- 
ese language  must  have  been  their  particular  bonne  boucJie  to 
punsters.  But  in  addition  to  those  who  play  upon  it  from 
malice  aforethought,  the  student,  who  is  pleased  to  dabble 
in  derivations,  is  constantly  lured  on  into  the  most  humor- 
ous and  }’et  the  most  plausible  of  mistakes.  He  is  forever 
making  brilliant  discoveries  which  turn  out  to  be  utterly  er- 
roneous. Sometimes  they  but  furnish  disappointment  to  the 
elated  discoverer,  but  occasionally  they  find  their  way  into 
print  and  yield  amusement  to  many.  Let  me  give  an  ex- 
ample of  the  latter.  The  word  “mei”  means  “the  eye,” 
another  “mei”  means  “clear,  remarkable,  pre-eminent;” 
“butsu”  means  “to  strike,”  and  another  “ butsu,”  “a  thing.” 
Now,  the  word  “ mei-butsu,”  compounded  of  “ mei”  (remark- 
able) and  “butsu”  (a  thing),  denotes  the  remarkable  objects 
of  a place,  — the  sights,  what  a traveller  at  once  asks  to  be 
shown  in  a strange  town.  The  meaning  of  the  compound 


350 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNIKG  CALM. 


the  translator  knew.  He  was,  however,  ignorant,  as  the  sequel 
})roves,  of  its  true  composition.  He  proceeded,  tlierefore,  to 
derive  it  quite  ingeniously,  though  unfortunately  not  quite 
correctly,  from  “ mei  ” (the  eye)  and  “ butsu  ” (to  strike), 
denoting,  as  he  explained,  that  wliich  strikes  the  eye. 

Here  tlie  question  naturally  arises.  Why  is  this  derivation 
not  as  justifiable  as  the  former?  In  such  a choice  of  possi- 
bilities, how  does  one  tell,  after  all,  which  is  right  and  which 
wrong?  The  answer  brings  us  to  the  second  step  in  such 
investigations ; and  that  answer  is,  by  a reference  to  the  Chi- 
nese character  which  represents  the  word.  The  correctness  or 
incorrectness  of  a derivation  is  proved  by  this  touchstone  of 
a foreign  ideographic  writing.  For  the  Japanese  “ kana,”  or 
“ borrowed  script,”  which  is  also  occasionally  used,  is  simply 
phonetic,  and  tells  us  nothing  but  the  pronunciation ; just  as 
to  a foreigner  “ bear  ” (a  beast)  and  “ bear  ” (to  carry)  are  as 
perfectly  non-committal  on  paper  as  they  are  non-committal 
in  sound.  Such  ambiguities  happen  but  rarely  with  us,  but 
they  are  constantly  present  in  Japanese.  In  these  emergen- 
cies the  Chinese  pictorial  writing,  in  common  use  in  writing 
or  printing  in  Japan,  steps  in,  and  furnishes,  in  a’  somewhat 
new  way,  exactness  to  speech. 

With  this  second  step  in  the  investigation  the  Japanese 
themselves  are  commonly  content  to  pause;  but,  in  point  of 
fact,  this  is  not  tlie  end  of  the  matter.  Though  it  is  true  that 
he  Avho  takes  as  his  guide,  in  Japanese  philology,  the  Chi- 
nese characters  will  avoid  mistakes,  he  will  never  rise,  on 
the  otlier  liand,  to  generalizations  ; for  the  Chinese  characters 
were  first  ado[)ted  in  Japan  some  sixteen  centuries  ago,  and 
the  Japanese  Avords  existed  long  before  tliat.  An  appeal  to 
them,  therefore,  simply  gives  us  Avhat  Avas  considered  to  be 
the  meaning  of  the  component  parts  of  any  Avord  at  tlie  time 
the  language  Avas  crystallized  into  Avriting.  What  they  meant 


AN  OUT-OF-THE-WAY  COENEK  IN  LANGUAGE.  351 


Lefore  tins,  we  do  not  gather;  we  only  learn  what  they  had 
then  come  to  mean. 

Now,  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  the  hat-iimbrella  question,  we 
must  go  back  to  this  anteliteral  state,  before  writing  had  been 
introduced.  In  Japanese,  the  word  for  hat  is  “kasa;”  and  it 
is  the  same  word,  exactly,  as  the  Korean  “kasi.”  Now  the 
word kasa  ” is  not  one,  but  many.  There  are  no  less  than 
seven  given  in  Hepburn’s  Dictionary.  But  though  the  seven 
are  at  present  expressed  by  quite  different  Chinese  characters, 
and  most  Japanese  would  consider  them  entirely  separate,  they 
are  in  trutli,  most  of  them  and  probably  all,  only  differentiated 
meanings  of  the  same  original  root-word,  — a Avord  which 
meant,  as  near  as  we  can  noAv  judge,  a round  covering  for  the 
head.  So  much  we  shall  learn  from  Avhat  they  denote  to-day. 

At  first,  apparently,  the  expression  Avas  applied  to  man. 
Then,  by  a sort  of  impersonation,  it  Avas  extended  to  objects 
in  Nature,  and  then  even  to  manufactured  articles.  Everything 
that  could  be  conceived  as  having  a round-top  covering  Avas 
said  to  possess  the  kasa.  The  part  so  specified  must  be  on  the 
top  ; it  must  be  round,  and  it  must  be  susceptible  of  removal. 
If  it  fulfilled  these  three  conditions,  it  Avas  just  as  much  a kasa 
as  Avas  the  hat  of  man. 

Thus  — to  begin  Avith  the  more  august  — the  halo  seen 
around  the  moon  on  the  approach  of  rainy  Aveather  is  called 
“kasa.”  She  is  preparing  to  protect  herself,  so  they  fancifully 
imagined,  from  the  coming  storm.  Then  certain  kinds  of  nuts 
have  a kasa  (shell).  Tlie  nidus  of  a certain  disease  is  a kasa, 
and  from  its  outward  marks  the  name  Avas  extended  to  the  dis- 
ease itself.  Then  a boAvl  is  coA’ered  Avith  its  kasa  (lid),  and 
is  spoken  of  as  bonneted.  A bowl  of  soup,  for  instance,  is 
ahvays  thus  brought  in  to  you,  Avith  its  hat  on.  So,  in  like 
manner,  an  umbrella  is  a kasa.  So  poor  Avas  the  old  speech, 
that  the  people  in  their  early  objective  simplicity  could  not 


352 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOEXING  CALM. 


distinguish,  uor  did  they  care  to  do  so,  the  many  forms  which 
the  Chinese  tauglit  them  at  a later  date  to  discriminate. 

Originally,  then,  both  hat  and  umbrella  Avere  alike  called 
“kasa.”  Taken  alone,  the  argument  from  language  proves  only 
the  paucity  in  expression  of  the  early  race,  although  it  may 
hint  at  more ; but  taken  in  connection  with  Avhat  we  find  in 
Korea,  it  is  very  strong  evidence  tOAvard  the  original  oneness, 
elseAvhere  as  Avell  as  in  the  peninsula,  of  the  umbrella  and  the 
hat.  At  first  the  umbrella  Avas  a hat. 

The  Japanese  intuitively  recognized  the  unity  even  in  the 
case  of  foreign  specimens.  When  the  Eurojjean  umbrella  Avas 
introduced  among  them,  they  called  it  at  once,  not  inappro- 
priately, a “ bat  hat.”  So  gloomy  a specimen  of  its  species, 
Avith  its  thin  tough  membrane  stretched  on  skinny,  Aviry  arms, 
suggested  to  them  nothing  less  hideous  than  that  denizen  of 
neither  sunlight  nor  darkness,  the  poor  outcast  of  both  mam- 
mals and  birds.  It  made  its  Avay,  liOAveA’cr,  in  spite  of  the 
opprobrium,  eA^en  among  the  Japanese  themselves  ; so  did  the 
straAv  hat  of  America,  Avhich  fairly  oA’erran  the  larger  cities, 
much  as  the  AvhiteAveed  from  Europe  took  possession  of  our 
own  fields,  ousting  the  native  species. 

So  much  for  the  hat.  But  this  suggests  a Avord  as  to  hoAv 
the  Koreans  learned  to  Avrite  ; for  before  they  Avent  to  school 
to  China,  they,  like  their  neighbors  and  cousins  the  Japanese, 
had  aj)parently  no  system  of  Avriting.  In  addition  to  the  bor- 
roAved  Chinese  characters,  both  peoples  have  noAv  a phonetic 
SA’stem  of  Avriting.  The  Japanese  “kana”  is  simply  a mutilated 
collection  of  certain  Chinese  characters  (Avhich  it  is  not  our 
purpose  to  explain  here) ; the  Korean  “ oinnun,”  as  it  is  called, 
has  quite  a different  genealogy.  It  Avas,  in  all  probability,  the 
outcome  of  a diplomatic  banquet. 

Once  a year  Korea  despatched  an  embassy  to  the  court  at 
Pekin.  Her  ambassadors  Avere  sent  to  carry  to  China  the 


AN  OUT-OF-THE-WAY  COENEE  IN  LANGUAGE.  353 


annual  tribute.  They  tarried  some  days  in  the  imperial  city, 
and  regularly,  once  during  their  stay,  wei’e  invited  to  dine  at 
the  palace.  The  occasion  was  a red-letter  day  to  the  diplomats, 
for  it  was  the  only  glimpse  Korea  ever  got  of  foreign  society. 
There,  for  a few  hours,  her  ambassadors  sat  at  table  between 
distinguished  visitors  from  all  parts  of  the  wide  East,  — envoys 
from  Japan  and  Manchuria,  travellers  from  Arabia,  wise  men 
from  India ; for  the  dragon-throne  was  at  that  time  not  the 
secluded  spot  we  might  suppose  it,  but  one  of  the  meeting  cen- 
tres of  the  known  world.  The  convives,  too,  knew  something 
about  one  another ; and  they  squabbled  for  precedence  in  their 
allotted  seats,  when  a mistake  was  made,  with  a comparative 
sense  of  position  worthy  a modern  European  court.  Naturally, 
the  Koreans  Avere  all  ears.  Undoubtedly  each  guest  Aued  Avith 
his  neighbor  in  the  narration  of  improbable  national  tales  and 
the  A’aunting  of  national  curiosities.  What  they  said  needed 
not,  hoAvcA'cr,  the  gloss  of  falsity  to  be  startling;  and  in  the 
course  of  couA’ersation  they  gave  one  another  many  ideas 
as  true  as  they  Avere  ucav  ; and  the  time,  too,  tinged  eveiy- 
thing  Avith  the  color  of  rose,  and  made  it  seem  desirable. 
In  this  Avay,  one  year,  the  Korean  envoys  found  themselves, 
on  their  journey  homcAvard,  with  a copy  of  the  Sanscrit  al- 
phabet tucked  aAvay  in  the  capacious  slecA^es  of  their  ample 
tunics. 

The  gift  commended  itself  to  the  scholars  of  Korea,  and  Avas 
adopted,  Avith  changes,  into  the  present  “ onmun.”  It  Avas  an 
alphabet,  and  theoretically  it  is  still  so  retained  to-day;  but  the 
native  tongue  was  too  ])Oor  in  sounds  to  suit  so  elaborate  a 
SA’stem,  and  the  soav  that  Avas  Avashed  returned  ajjain  to  her 
AvalloAving  in  the  mire.  In  practice  the  possibilities  of  an  alpha- 
bet Avere  degraded  into  the  fetters  of  a syllabary,  and  as  such 
is  it  noAv  taught  in  the  schools.  But  succeeding  generations, 
Avith  more  patriotism  than  justice,  thought  so  good  an  invention 

23 


354 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  :^[ORNIXG  CALH. 


■svortliy  a native  mind,  and  set  on  foot  the  following  myth  to 
account  for  it. 

There  was  once  a certain  king  who,  contrary  to  the  custom 
of  the  usual  king,  realized  to'  some  extent  the  duties  of  his 
position,  and  spent  his  time  in  concocting  schemes  for  the 
amelioration  of  society.  It  occurred,  one  day,  to  this  wise 
monarch  that  learning  would  be  more  easily  spread  among 
the  common  people  if  a phonetic  system  of  writing  could  be 
introduced  to  supersede  the  laborious  memorizing  of  the  Chi- 
nese character ; for,  as  it  was,  a long  study  and  a retentive 
memory  Avere  needed  to  learn  the  very  means  of  learning, 
whereas,  if  Avhat  they  read  rej^resented  what  they  spoke,  the 
two  studies  could  go,  as  they  should,  linked  hand  in  hand. 
So  he  set  himself  to  invent  a bond  as  simple  as  possible. 
This  he  soon  succeeded  in  doing  to  his  entire  satisfaction. 
But  then  arose  a more  difficult  problem,  not  unknown  in 
more  advanced  literary  compositions,  — How  should  he  get 
it  before  the  public  ? He  could,  of  course,  launch  it  with  his 
OAvn  sanction,  but  Avould  it  be  taken  up?  Probably  not;  for 
the  people  were  too  addicted  to  precedent  to  be  amenable 
to  change.  So  he  decided  to  try  the  effect  of  the  anonymous, 
backed  by  the  supernatural. 

He  gathered  several  leaves,  and  in  the  secrecy  of  Avhat 
stood  him  in  lieu  of  study,  traced  upon  them  in  honey  the 
signs  he  had  comjDOsed.  Then  he  took  and  scattered  them  in 
his  garden,  that  the  Avorms  might,  in  eating  the  honey,  leaA'e 
behind  his  signs  upon  the  leaA’es.  What  Avorms  they  Avere  that 
Avere  so  fond  of  sAveets,  it  Avould  be  disrespectful  to  the  myth 
to  inquire.  Suffice  it  that  whether  it  was  their  natural  instinct 
or  not,  they  Avere  obliging  enough  to  do  in  this  case  AA’hat  Avas 
expected  of  them.  When  they  had  performed  their  part  in 
the  plot,  the  king  quite  innocently  iiiAuted  his  courtiers  to 
stroll  Avith  him  about  the  garden.  In  the  course  of  their 


AN  OUT-OF-THE-WAY  CORNEK  IN  LANGUAGE.  355 


walk,  tliey  happened  on  the  leaves ; one  of  the  courtiers, 
noticing  them,  stooped  and  picked  one  np.  The  rest  gath- 
ered round  to  examine  it.  Such  curious  markings  they  had 
never  before  seen  ; and  his  Majesty  ingenuously  suggested  that 
perhaps  they  contained  some  hidden  revelation  from  the  gods, 
and  proposed  that  any  one  who  could,  should  undertake  to 
decipher  it.  As  none  vouchsafed  any  explanation,  he  gra- 
ciously gave  them  three  days  in  which  to  consider  the  matter. 
At  the  end  of  that  time  they  were  still,  not  unnaturally,  no- 
tionless, with  the  exception  of  one  young  man  whose  want 
of  years,  no  doubt,  was  reason  for  his  assurance,  and  who 
pretended  to  have  conceived  an  idea;  but  he  asked  for  an 
extension  of  three  days  more.  They  were  granted  him.  At 
their  expiration  he  asked  for  three  more.  These  too  were 
granted.  Whether  there  Avas  collusion  or  not,  is  wisely 
omitted  from  the  storv.  Silence  of  course  «-ives  consent  to 

*/  O 

suspicions.  At  the  end  of  nine  days  he  announced  that  the 
leaves  embodied  — what  the  king  had  put  there.  So  evident 
a revelation  needed  only  to  be  known  to  be  believed,  and  the 
king  and  the  prophet  then  invented  together  the  sounds  they 
should  severally  represent.  To  this  same  king  is  due,  it  is 
said,  the  invention  of  movable  type. 


356 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


THE  FLOWER-STHEAM  TEMPLE. 


UCH  a thing  as  a temple  does  not  exist  in  Soul.  To  see 


Korean  religious  architecture,  therefore,  as  well  as  reli- 
gious observances,  one  must  go  into  the  country,  and  the  far- 
ther from  the  haunts  of  men  the  better ; for  the  monastic  half 
is  veiy  nearly  all  that  remains  to-day  of  Buddhism  throughout 
the  peninsula. 

The  finest  buildings  are  said  to  be  a long  Avay  off  from  the 
capital,  in  among  the  mountains  to  the  north.  There,  unmo- 
lested by  irreverent  man,  religion  still  keeps  something  of  her 
former  glory.  But  there  are  others,  though  of  less  magnifi- 
cence, to  be  seen  nearer  Soul.  One  of  these  lies  some  seven 
miles  away,  on  the  eastern  spurs  of  the  great  Cock’s-comb  peak; 
and  in  consequence  of  its  comparative  proximity  to  town,  it  has 
acquired  no  mean  reputation,  — a rejDutation,  however,  which 
is  principally  due  to  reasons  anything  but  religious.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  noted  spots  for  pleasure-excursions.  But  this  does 
not  in  the  least  detract  from  its  sanctity  nor  from  the  interest 
of  the  place  itself ; for  the  selecting  of  a monastery  as  a place 
for  a scene  of  revels  is  a practice  common  in  Korea,  as  it  is  in 


It  was  in  this  double  capacity,  as  a shelter  at  once  for  the 
cowl  and  the  courtier,  that  I was  one  day  taken  to  see  it.  I 
had  expressed  a desire  to  go  there  for  its  own  sake ; but  I was 
not  sorry  that  the  Koreans  deemed  it  wise  that  the  means 


China. 


THE  FLOWER-STREAM  TEMPLE. 


357 


should  in  some  sort  justify  the  end.  It  had  been  decided  to 
make  of  the  visit  an  eventful  excursion.  We  were  to  take 
with  us  a band  of  musicians  and  strolling  actors,  several  sing- 
ing-girls and  my  Japanese  cook,  not  to  speak  of  chairs,  tables, 
and  other  minor  conveniences.  The  musicians,  cook,  and  bag- 
gage were  to  be  sent  out  ahead  to  prepare  for  our  arrival, 
while  the  singing-girls,  as  agreeable  companions,  were  to 
accompany  us. 

Accordingly,  on  the  morning  of  the  day  appointed,  my  re- 
spectable abode  became  the  scene  of  much  bustle  and  some 
unavoidable  preliminary  festivity.  Servants  of  all  descriptions 
and  varying  degrees  of  usefulness  hurried  hither  and  thither, 
industriously  giving  orders  to  others,  and  occasionally  doing 
something  themselves.  Bundles  of  the  most  outlandish  look 
and  enormous  size  were  made  up  as  best  they  might  be,  and 
strapped  on  the  backs  of  coolies  who  stood  ready  to  receive 
them  ; while  conveyances  of  various  kinds  lay  scattered  pro- 
miscuously about  the  courtyard  waiting  for  future  occupants, 
and  their  bearers  or  drawers,  as  the  case  might  be,  added  to  the 
general  confusion  by  lounging  about  the  place  with  nothing 
particular  to  do.  Finally,  after  a commotion  worthy  of  the 
breaking  camp  of  a badly  disorganized  army,  the  baggage 
got  off. 

The  advance-guard  despatched,  the  girls  began  to  arrive. 
They  quite  filled  the  house  with  their  presence, — the  more  so 
for  the  ordinary  absence  of  femininity.  The}^  tripped  about, 
with  a smile  here  and  a word  there,  and  thus  enlivened  the 
repasts  which  by  this  time  had  succeeded  to  the  bustle  of 
preparation.  At  this  juncture  a friend  from  the  legation,  who 
had  been  invited  to  go  with  us,  put  in  an  appearance,  thus 
adding  still  another  element  to  so  motley  a party,  while  he 
contributed  one  more  to  the  heterogeneous  assemblaere  of 
vehicles  in  the  outer  coiu’tyard. 


358 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


However,  sliortly  after  noon  we  had  got  ready  to  start,  and, 
tucking  ourselves  into  our  boxes,  were  lifted  from  the  ground 
and  carried  out  of  the  gateway.  Friends,  geishas,  and  retain- 
ers, we  made  a goodly  company,  and  strung  out  along  the 
street  in  the  most  approved  Eastern  style.  The  weather  was 
clear  and  cold,  everything  fairly  sparkling  as  only  the  sun- 
shine of  a northern  winter’s  day,  with  the  snow  in  patches  on 
the  ground  and  the  blue  above,  can  sparkle.  It  was  a laugh- 
ing, merry  sort  of  day.  The  boys  in  the  streets,  as  we  passed 
through,  seemed  to  find  it  so,  too.  I had  never  seen  them  so 
lively  before;  for  they  are  usually  rather  quiet,  as  we  count 
boys.  But  they  were  in  the  thick  of  a most  interesting  game. 
It  was  called  “the  game  of  war.”  Bands  of  youthful  warriors, 
armed  with  stout  sticks,  were  coursing  the  streets,  and  more 
particularly  the  corners  of  the  narrower  alleys,  — for  every 

bov  knows  how  much  more  interest  lurks  in  the  double  entente 

•/ 

of  the  corner  and  the  mysterious  possibility  of  the  alley,  — and 
would  appear,  whirl,  and  disappear  again  with  the  suddenness 
of  a flock  of  sparrows. 

The  game,  as  it  Avas  explained  to  me,  had  at  least  the  merit 
of  simplicity  ; it  might  almost  be  looked  upon  as  innate  in  idea 
and  execution.  It  consisted  in  the  two  parties  to  the  sport 
belaboring  one  another  with  sticks  or  clubs  until  one  side  had 
had  enough  for  the  time  being,  when  they  Avould  take  to  their 
heels  to  rally  again  at  the  next  corner.  No  games  in  Korea  are 
ever  limited  in  the  age  of  those  who  may  play  them.  GroAvn 
men  enter  into  the  sport  with  as  mucli  zest  as  children.  As  this 
one  is  rather  violent  for  city  streets,  and  would  greatly  incom- 
mode the  passers-by  if  men  indulged  in  it,  and  also,  probably, 
from  tlie  greater  decorum  of  city  habits,  it  is  limited  to  small 
boys.  But  in  the  country,  where  no  such  restraining  influences 
act,  almost  a business  is  made  out  of  the  pleasure.  Wliole  vil- 
laofes  engage  in  it,  and  blows  sometimes  result  in  death.  These 


THE  FLOWER-STEEAM  TEMPLE. 


359 


are  unfortunate  casualties ; but  in  spite  of  them  the  occasion 
is  one  of  great  jollity,  and  at  the  end  of  the  contest  a bull 
is  slaughtered  for  the  victors  by  the  vanquished,  and  a grand 
feast  made,  in  which  all  the  company  join. 

The  position  of  the  Northeast  Gate  — the  one  we  went  out 
by  — is  particularly  striking.  On  both  sides  the  ground  falls 
abruptly  away,  and  you  look  down,  on  the  inner,  upon  the 
roofs  of  the  houses,  and  on  the  outer  side  over  a valley  hemmed 
in  by  ranges  of  sharp  hills.  So  far  is  it  from  the  city’s  centre 
that  there  are  no  suburbs  beyond.  You  descend  at  once  into 
the  countrv. 

ft/ 

At  first  we  passed  over  rather  a desolate  plain ; then  we 
struggled  up  over  a low  rocky  pass,  and  down  again  into  a 
valley  of  rice-fields.  By  this  time  the  last  to  set  out  had 
caught  up  with  the  first ; and  a merry  party  we  made,  wind- 
ing slowly  across  country,  with  occasional  halts  for  the  chair- 
coolies  to  rest,  — for  chairs  and  three  imported  kuruma  formed 
the  means  of  conveyance.  The  quality,  as  Avell  as  the  quan- 
tity of  the  company,  rendered  progress  slow.  Our  advance  was 
one  continued  frolic.  The  bracing  air  and  the  spirits  of  the 
travellers  made  decorum  impossible.  One  by  one  we  deserted 
our  chairs  and  took  to  strollin"-.  Then  we  exchanged  convev- 
ances  all  round.  Then  we  played  amateur  jinrikisha  men,  and 
dragged  the  girls  in  the  kuruma  as  fast  as  we  could  run,  to  their 
great  delight  and  very  near  upsetting.  This  caused  a slight 
panic,  which  resulted  in  a pause,  which  we  seized  to  serve  out 
refreshments,  and  so  help  restore  the  equilibrium  of  the  mind, 
if  not  of  the  body.  Then  we  tried  the  ice  that  covered  the 
fields,  to  the  horror  of  the  fair  ones  and  our  own  discomfiture  ; 
and  so  in  pastimes  suggested  by  the  moment  and  varied  the 
next,  we  compassed  five  miles  of  Korean  road,  and  found  our- 
selves, toward  the  end  of  the  afternoon,  at  the  entrance  to  a 
wood  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Cock’s-comb  Mountain. 


3G0 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


W e left  the  open  and  turned  Into  the  wood.  All  at  once  the 
spirit  of  the  party  chang-ed.  Everything  had  suddenly  become 
quiet,  — the  solemn  silence  of  a winter’s  forest.  The  trees  were 
large  and  mostly  deciduous,  of  a dull  neutral  brown,  and  the 
snow  lay  in  virgin  white  patches  by  the  side  of  the  path.  The 
spot  was  impressive,  from  a sort  of  lonely  beauty.  A hush, 
as  of  sadness,  seemed  to  be  a part  of  the  very  air.  Only  the 
sound  of  our  own  voices  and  the  noise  of  our  tramping  broke 
startlingly  upon  the  universal  silence. 

Soon  we  came  to  where  the  forest  narrowed  into  a strip  on 
either  side  of  a ravine,  — the  bed  of  a frozen  brook.  On  one 
side  of  the  brook  climbed  up  the  path.  In  the  centre  were 
rocks  and  ice,  and  towering  on  either  hand  sharp  spurs  of  the 
mountain  of  hardened  sand.  But  the  trees  shut  these  out 
from  view,  and  partially  concealed  the  real  formation  of  the 
gully.  We  ascended  the  glen  for  a few  minutes,  turned  to 
the  left,  came  to  a sort  of  natural  vantage-ground  that  com- 
manded a view  of  what  lay  below,  and  the  next  moment 
stood,  amid  an  expectant  crowd  of  moidvs,  in  the  courtyard 
of  the  monasteiy. 

If  our  voices  had  seemed  strange  amid  the  deadness  of  a 
winter’s  forest,  our  quartering  ourselves  in  our  riotous  mood 
upon  a set  of  secluded  monks  appeared  wellnigh  sacrilegious. 
It  was  hard  to  persuade  ourselves  at  first  that  we  were  but 
following  the  customs  of  the  country.  To  go  out  of  town  in 
the  depth  of  winter  to  hold  high  revels  in  a lonely  monastery ! 
Ivabelais  would  have  envied  us  the  situation.  The  good,  sim- 
ple monks,  however,  saw  nothing  at  all  odd  in  the  proceeding. 
Though  by  profession  out  of  the  world,  they  evinced  a naive 
curiosity  for  the  glimpse  they  were  being  given  of  what  went 
on  Avithin  it,  and  especially  that  part  of  it  Avhich  came  from 
beyond  sea.  They  gathered  around  us,  and  Avelcomed  us  in ; 
and  so,  just  as  the  gray  afternoon  of  a short  winter’s  day  was 


THE  FLOWER-STREAM  TEMPLE. 


361 


deepening  into  niglit,  Ave  mounted  tlie  flight  of  outer  stone 
steps  and  entered  the  hall  of  the  main  building. 

The  spot  is  called  “ The  FloAA’er-Stream  Temple.”  In  spring, 
no  doubt,  it  deserves  its  name.  At  the  time  we  saAv  it,  its 
grandeur,  its  very  forbidding  austerity,  was  its  charm.  The 
situation  seemed  to  be  the  appropriate  setting  of  the  monastic 
spirit,  — the  ravine,  shut  off  from  the  Avorld  beyond  ; the  sti-eam, 
bound  fast  in  icy  slumber ; and  the  pines,  as  they  stood  guard 
over  it,  themselves  the  semblance  of  a living  death. 

The  monastery  was  Buddhist.  The  Shinto  faith,  or  what 
corresj^onds  to  it  in  Korea,  has  no  monasteries,  — only  temples 
properly  so-called,  and  shrines ; and  the  sect  of  Buddhism  to 
which  it  belonged,  was  Avhat  Ave  may  compare,  among  Chris- 
tian sects,  to  the  Roman  Catholic.  For  Buddhism  can  boast 
as  many  sects  and  hair-splitting  refinements  of  belief  as  Chris- 
tianity. In  the  first  place,  there  are  the  great  northern  and 
southern  dlA'isions.  The  Indian  Buddhists  belong  to  the  latter, 
and  the  Chinese,  Japanese,  and  Korean  to  the  former.  Then 
each  of  these  is  subdivided  into  sects  innumerable.  There  are 
some  Avhich  correspond  very  nearly  to  the  Protestant  Church 
with  us.  These  Protestant  sects  — for  they  are  really  pro- 
testant  themseU’es  against  abuses  Avhich  have  crept  in  to  the 
older  forms  — are  practically  confined  to  Japan.  The  Korean 
churches  are  mostly  those  AA'hich  liaA'e  clung  to  the  old  ways. 

The  outAvard  expressions  of  these  sects  are  as  A^arious  as 
the  corresponding  ones  in  Europe,  and  the  expressions  them- 
selves bear  a A’ery  striking  resemblance  to  their  counterparts 
at  home.  A European  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  Buddhism, 
standing  in  the  FloAver-Stream  Temple,  would  have  belieA'ed 
himself  to  be  in  a Roman  Catholic  monasteiw.  The  tonsure, 
the  sackcloth,  the  beads,  the  service,  the  bells,  and  a hundred 
other  familiar  sights  and  sounds,  Avould  all  haA-e  suggested  to 
him  the  monks  of  the  other  side  of  the  Avorld.  He  Avould  have 


3G2 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  :\IOKNJNG  CALM. 


recognized  an  Eastern  coloring,  but  he  would  have  thought 
it  transplanted  Rome.  This  is  what  actually  happened  to  the 
Catholic  missionaries  when  the}^  first  came  to  China.  They 
stood  aghast  at  what  they  saw.  f^'or  there  they  were  face  to 
face,  in  a strange  land,  with  what  they  had  firmly  supposed  to 
be  their  own  peculiar  property.  They  were  at  a loss  what  to 
say  till,  their  subtlety  coming  to  their  rescue,  they  hit  upon  an 
explanation.  Without  hesitation  they  pronounced  it  the  per- 
sonal work  of  the  devil.  “You  have  indeed  got,”  they  said  to 
the  people,  “the  outward  forms  of  the  true  faith;  and  the  only 
difference  between  you  and  us  is  that  your  god  is  our  devil.” 
So  encouraging  and  flattering  a way  to  put  it  to  those  whom 
they  hoped  to  convert  ! 

As  to  the  principles  of  Buddhism,  so  much  has  been  said, 
and  much  of  it  so  well  said,  that  anything  here  would  be  un- 
necessary ; but  it  will  not  be  wholly  out  of  place  to  say  a word 
upon  a certain  prevalent  misconception. 

We  have,  many  of  us,  been  brought  up  with  a holy  horror 
of  idols,  and  all  of  us  use  the  term  “idolatrous”  as  a convenient 
adjective  to  apply  to  the  outward  symbols  of  any  belief  not 
included  within  the  pale  of  Christianity.  We  were  first  made 
familiar  with  the  monstrosities  from  the  writings  of  the  ancient 
Jews  ; then  they  were  shown  as  existing  to-day  among  savage 
tribes ; and  lastly  the  early  Catholic  missionaries,  on  travelling 
thither,  peopled  for  us  the  far-Eastern  religions  with  them. 
Now,  the  fact  is  that  they  did  exist  in  olden  times,  that  they 
do  exist  to-day  in  the  worship  of  savages  ; but  they  no  more 
exist  in  the  civilized  religion  of  Buddha  than  they  do  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church.  If  Buddhists  worship  what  we  are 
pleased  to  call  idols,  then  the  Roman  Church  does ; if  this 
last  be  denied  to  be  the  case,  then  as  truly  must  we  deny 
their  existence  in  the  worship  of  Buddha.  The  exact  posit- 
ing of  what  is  actually  believed  in  any  fiiith  is  always  a 


THE  ELOWER-STKEAM  TEMPLE. 


363 


difficult  matter,  and  it  becomes  doubly  so  when  this  faith  calls 
ill  the  aid  of  outward  expression ; for  insensibly  the  mind  tends 
to  clothe  the  immaterial  in  a manner  presentable  to  the  senses. 
The  deterioration  has  been  observable  in  all  beliefs,  save  those, 
like  the  Mohammedan,  which  strictly  forbid  the  fashioning  of 
such  aids.  At  first  the  thing  fashioned,  the  picture  or  the  statue, 
is  but  man’s  attempt  to  represent  to  himself,  and  thus  remind 
him  of,  the  unseen.  As  an  Indian  Buddhist  once  put  it,  “It 
is  like  the  picture  of  an  absent  friend,  which  we  gaze  on  till 
the  tears  roll  down  our  cheeks  ; yet  we  weep  not  at  the  pic- 
ture, but  at  the  thought  it  has  called  up.”  Insensibly,  how- 
ever, the  man  gets  to  cling  to  what  little  he  can  grasp,  and  we 
are  at  last  horrified  to  discover  that  it  is  actually  the  image 
itself  he  has  come  to  worship.  The  higher  minds  of  the  faith 
continue  to  see  beyond ; but  the  mass,  the  great  majority,  are 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  sunk  in  idolatry.  It  does  not  mat- 
ter a tittle  whether  the  belief  be  Buddhism  or  Christianity. 
This  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  purity  or  grandeur  of  the 
two  beliefs,  Avhich  is  quite  another  thing.  For  the  argument, 
it  is  enough  that  they  both  worship  spirit. 

While  I am  speaking  of  the  two  great  European  and  Asi- 
atic faiths,  I may  mention  an  amusing  example  of  how  subtlety 
in  the  interpreting  of  religious  dogmas  is  not  confined  to  the 
Jesuits.  The  great  Protestant  sect  in  Japan  is  called  “ The  Shin 
Sect.”  Now,  it  is  often  the  case  in  a language  as  poor  in 
sounds  as  the  Japanese,  that  many  different  words  have  one 
and  the  same  pronunciation.  This  is  the  case  with  the  Avord 
“shin.”  Amonof  other  meanings  it  has  two,  — that  of  “neAv” 
and  that  of  “ true.”  Now,  the  founders  of  the  sect  were  modest, 
and  called  it  “The  New  Sect.”  But  Avith  time  its  adherents 
waxed  bolder,  and  galled  by  the  humble  meaning  of  their 
self-chosen  appellative,  they  decided  to  have  its  coat  of  arms 
altered,  — that  is,  they  changed  the  character  by  which  it  Avas 


3G4 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MOENIXG  CALM. 


Avritten,  while  still  keeping  the  old  pronunciation.  From  that 
time  they  wrote  it  “ The  True  Sect,”  and  then  with  unblushing 
effrontery  maintained  that  this  had  always  been  its  name. 

The  teaching  of  religion  is  to  humble  all  men  to  an  equality. 
Not  less  is  it  the  virtue  of  its  garb  to  make  their  appearance 
one.  Dress  goes  far  toward  changing  physiognomy.  As  I 
stood  scrutinizing  these  monks,  I saw  their  likeness  to  the 
Japanese  in  a way  I had  never  seen  it  before.  Clad  in  their 
every-day  costume,  their  hair  arranged  in  different  ways,  the 
resemblance  is  not  very  marked;  but  here,  in  the  same  sack- 
cloth dress,  the  hair  alike  shaven,  no  one  could  fail  to  be 
struck  by  the  common  origin  of  the  two  races. 

We  then  started  to  wander  about  the  place.  Tlie  plan  of 
the  monastery  buildings  was  as  follows.  The  road  up  the 
ravine  sinq)!}^  ended  in  the  outer  courtyard,  without  the  in- 
terposition of  gate  of  any  kind,  but  there  was  a stone- wall 
on  the  side  facinv  the  ravine.  On  the  courtyard  fronted  the 

O'  c/ 

main  building,  whose  central  hall  was  the  refectory  This  had 
been  giv^en  up  to  our  entertainment.  Back  of  this  was  an- 
other courtyard,  upon  which,  opposite  the  refectory,  were  two 
temples,  consecrated,  to  speak  popularly,  to  different  deities, 
and  full,  of  course,  of  the  usual  images,  bronzes,  drums,  arti- 
ficial flowers,  etc.  On  the  sides  were  smaller  buildings  con- 
nected indirectly  with  the  paraphernalia  of  worship  In  a 
semicircle,  outside  of  these,  and  entered  not  from  the  inner 
courtyard  but  from  without,  were  the  smaller  houses  that  served 
for  dwellings  to  the  monks.  To  the  right  of  the  main  building, 
and  projecting  beyond  it,  were  certain  houses  forming  one  Avith 
the  building  itself.  They  were  used  apparently  for  rooms  of 
study.  Though  the  spot  upon  Avhich  the  AAdiole  Avas  built  aauis 
level  compared  Avith  its  surroundings,  still  the  ground  fell  aAvay 
enough  in  front  to  raise  these  adA’ance  building's  liio-h  into 
the  air  and  give  them  an  eyry-like  appearance.  There  AAas 


THE  FLOWER-STREAM  TEMPLE. 


365 


nothing  rich  in  architecture  or  ornament  about  the  place,  such 
as  would  invariably  have  been  the  case  in  Japan.  All  was 
very  plain,  the  plainness  of  poverty.  There  were  only  some 
rather  quaint  articles  in  the  side  buildings  of  the  inner  court- 
yard, one  of  them  especially,  a liuge  wooden  fish  carved  in 
the  most  grotesque  manner  and  suspended  by  head  and  tail 
from  the  ceiling. 

While  we  were  strolling  round  tlie  place,  waiting  for  dinner, 
the  bell  on  the  larger  of  the  two  buildings  began  to  toll  in  that 
peculiar  manner  so  distinctive  of  the  far-East.  Instead  of  a 
tongue  to  be  moved  inside,  tlie  bell  is  struck  from  without. 
This  makes  it  easier  to  regulate  the  cadence.  This  is  at  first 
very  slow  ; then,  ever  increasing,  it  grows  faster  and  faster, 
until  the  blows  lose  themselves  in  one  continuous  swell,  and 
then  it  winds  up  with  three  taps  to  bring  the  thought  back 
again  to  attention.  Then  the  Avhole  is  repeated  at  suitable 
intervals.  It  announced  a service  in  the  bigger  of  the  two 
temples  in  the  inner  court,  and  so  we  went  to  peer  in.  Our 
fellow  on-lookers  courteously  fell  back  to  allow  us  to  mount 
to  the  highest  step  of  the  flight  that  led  up  to  the  temple, 
and  thus  to  stand  as  near  as  it  was  proper  to  do,  without 
taking  off  our  shoes.  The  service  had  already  begun,  and 
by  the  time  we  got  there  a dozen  monks,  arrayed  in  their 
finest  garments,  were  solemnly  walking  in  procession  round 
and  round  in  an  endless  circle,  chanting  as  they  did  so,  wliile 
a small  novice  sat  beating  a drum  in  one  corner.  We  were 
of  as  much  interest  to  them  as  they  were  to  us ; and  those 
of  them  whose  acquaintance  we  had  already  made  did  not 
hesitate  to  smile  and  (as  near  as  they  wei’e  capable  of  the 
gesture)  tvink  at  us,  as  in  their  motion  they  passed  in  front. 
This  conduct  was  the  more  pardonable  on  their  part,  as  they 
did  not  understand  a single  tvord  of  what  they  were  saying. 
The  litany,  or  whatever  it  may  be  called,  was  in  Sanscrit, 


3GG 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


which  they  had  learned  by  heart  and  were  now  mispro- 
nouncing. Even  in  itself,  however,  the  ceremony  was  not 
particularly  solemn ; there  was  too  much  motion  in  it.  But 
there  are  services  which  are  not  wanting  in  great  dignity. 

I once  had  one  given  for  me  at  a monastery  on  the  top  of 
a mountain  in  the  interior  of  Japan,  which  was  very  impres- 
sive. The  buildings  and  their  settings  were  imposing ; the 
music  weird,  but  nevertheless  human ; the  prayers  solemn 
and  grand  ; and  it  was  all  for  the  modest  votive  offering  of  fifty 
cents.  It  was  there  that  I first  appreciated  far-Eastern  instru- 
ments of  music.  They  were  first  used  in  temples,  and  are 
indeed  in  keeping  with  their  birthplace. 

How  many  times  the  priests  in  this  case  continued  to  follow 
the  mystic  circle  I do  not  know,  for  having  witnessed  several 
revolutions  we  concluded  that  we  had  seen  enough,  and  so 
came  away ; but  we  could  still  hear  the  cadence  of  the  chant- 
ing wafted  abroad  as  we  strolled  through  the  buildings  and 
their  courts.  Thus  slowly  but  surely  time  bore  us  along, 
amid  monastic  sights  and  sounds,  toward  what  was  to  be  the 
crowning  event  of  the  day,  — the  anything  but  monastic 
revels  of  the  evening. 


WINTER  REVELS  IN  A MONASTERY. 


3()7 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

WINTER  REVELS  IN  A MONASTERY. 

T last  arrived  tlie  hour  for  the  feast.  In  the  main  hall 


of  tlie  refectory  had  been  spread  a table,  under  the  di- 
rection of  the  Japanese  cook,  as  nearly  after  foreign  customs 
as  possible,  and  around  it,  with  an  air  of  empty  expectancy, 
were  ranged  foreign  chairs.  How  the  tutelary  deity  — ex  ma- 
china — managed  this  last  touch,  I do  not  know.  I think  the 
baggage-carriers  might  possibly  have  explained  their  appear- 
ance. They  Avere,  at  least,  appropriate;  for  religion  alone  in 
Korea  consecrates  the  use  of  chairs. 

Tlie  dinner  itself  did  not  differ  materiall}'  from  snch  hybrids 
of  its  class  as  I have  already  described.  It  Avas  the  room  and 
the  bystanders  that  Avere  curious  ; for  all  that  side  of  the  hall 
next  the  doors  Avas  packed  AAuth  monks  and  retainers,  their  faces 
perfectly  stolid,  so  great  Avas  their  interest. 

I am  sanguine  enough  to  look  fonvard  to  an  epoch  in  the 
fntnre  AAdien  Ave  shall  consider  it  improper  to  make  of  feeding 
hours  an  excuse  for  meeting-  our  felloAV-man.  I am  aAvare  that 
economy  of  time  is  a hictor  on  the  other  side,  but  I trust  this 
consideration  Avill  not  abvays  rule  paramount.  Convenience, 
as  it  helped  start  the  custom,  must  e\’er  promote  certain  neces- 
saiy  gatherings  on  those  occasions ; but  let  us  keep  the  practice 
strictly  Avithin  bounds,  like  any  other  bodily  necessity. 

I need  hardly  say  that  I did  not  then  put  my  idiosyncrasy 
into  execution.  I suffered  myself  to  be  content  with  the  actions 


368 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


of  tlie  geisha  in  this  respect,  wlio  sat  between  the  guests  and 
assisted  at,  without  partaking  of,  the  banquet.  They  Avere 
there  to  amuse  others  and  not  themselves.  They  ate,  there- 
fore, only  such  things  as  were  vouchsafed  them  as  tidbits  or 
love-tokens  by  the  guests.  Every  now  and  then  one  or  the 
other  of  them  Avould  break  forth  into  sonji^.  The  sonofs  Avere 
conA'entional  Avails  or  chants,  Avith  only  the  plaintive  character 
in  them  to  please  my  ear.  I confess  I rather  preferred  the 
fair  singers  Avhen  silent. 

Not  to  Aveary  the  reader  Avitli  another  description  of  a jaro- 
longed  feast,  — the  only  excuse  for  Avhose  length  lay  in  the 
actual  eating  of  it,  — Ave  Avill  suppose  the  dinner  over,  the  table 
mysteriously  hidden  aAvay,  and  all  traces  of  the  late  banquet 
removed.  The  room  has  returned  from  its  pretence  of  Europe 
back  to  its  Asiatic  coloring.  In  the  centre  hangs  a lamp  not 
too  bright  at  best,  and  shaded  by  a rectangular  screen  of  glass 
decorated  Avith  brilliantly' painted  floAvers.  On  the  left  is  a still 
more  gaudily  painted  one,  AAdiile  opposite,  as  a pendant,  hangs 
a board  inscribed  Avith  the  spiritual  light  of  a Sanscrit  text.  We 
can  none  of  us  read  AA’hat  it  sa}’s ; and  yet,  strange  thought ! it 
is  the  only  intellectual  link  that  binds  entertainers  and  enter- 
tained. The  ideas  Avhich  our  remote  relatives  committed  to 
Avriting  these  people  borrowed  and  repeat  to-day. 

Hanged  around  the  nearer  end  are  the  guests  and  the  geisha, 
sitting  upon  chairs  or  squatting  upon  quilts  on  the  floor,  as  con- 
A'enience  or  the  force  of  habit  dictates.  In  a circle  in  the  centre 
sit,  cross-legged,  the  musicians, — later  to  change  to  actors,  for 
they  are  both  in  one.  Beyond  them  is  a dense  croAvd.  Tier 
above  tier  rises  a A^ery  sea  of  human  faces,  each  face  a study 
of  emotions,  — curiosity,  expectancy,  delight.  Monks  Avith  their 
shaven  heads,  their  broAvn  cassocks,  and  girdles  of  hempen  rope, 
and  around  their  necks  or  hanging  from  their  Avaists  their  ro- 
saries of  black  beads,  stand  and  stare,  the  personification  of 


WINTER  REVELS  IN  A MONASTERY. 


369 


attention.  Novices,  with  boyisli  faces  all  aglow  with  wonder- 
ment, eagerly  drink  in  the  scene  before  them  and  forget  who 
and  where  they  are.  Interspersed  with  these  are  our  own 
retainers,  their  colored  clothes  and  black  felt  hats  in  striking 
contrast  to  the  sober  monastic  garb.  They  too  have  forgotten 
time  and  place,  and  lose  themselves  in  what  they  see.  The 
nearer  ones  are  seated  on  the  floor,  and  the  farther  stand  up 
against  the  wall.  The  place  is  packed,  and  the  doors  are 
blocked  with  the  eager  lookers-on.  Shaven  crowns  and  huge 
hats,  saints  and  soldiers,  stand  side  by  side  in  one  dense,  in- 
discriminate mass.  Distinctions  are  lost  in  curiosity ; for  the 
calling  of  the  holy  men  in  no  wise  debarred  them  from  wit- 
nessino-  the  entertainment,  and  servants  in  Korea  are  alwavs 
privileged  to  see  anything  that  is  going  on.  An  atmosphere 
laden  with  tobacco  smoke  adds  a finishing  touch  of  haze. 

At  first  the  performers  gave  us  some  music.  There  was  the 
usual  complement  of  six  instruments  ; and  they  had  agreed  to 
live  as  happily  together  as  was  possible,  which  amounted  to 
agreeing  to  disagree,  as  my  ear  suggested.  As  to  any  con- 
certed action  between  them,  it  sounded  to  me  conspicuous  b}" 
its  absence.  Fortunately  the  flutes  and  the  two  stringed  fid- 
dles had  come  to  some  understanding-  about  sharing  the  field 
and  not  Interfering  more  than  half  the  time  with  the  others.  As 
for  the  drums,  being  of  neutral  sound,  they  harmonized  with 
everybody. 

The  music  stopped,  and  the  interlude  was  employed  to  serve 
us  tea,  which  we  drank  as  usual,  after  the  Cliinese  fashion. 
Among  ourselves  we  all  began  to  feel  very  much  at  home. 
With  some  of  these  men  I had  travelled  many  thousand  miles. 
I had  sat  with  them  in  boxes  at  theatres  of  our  own  kind,  as  I 
was  now  about  to  witness  their  own  nearest  representative  of 
the  stage.  Others  I had  known  intimately  for  months  in  their 
own  capital.  Even  with  the  geisha  I was  on  a tolerably 

24 


370 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


familiar  footing,  for  the  same  fair  ones  had  been  called  to 
many  an  entertainment  at  which  I had  been  a guest.  One  of 
them  especially  was  kind ; indeed,  she  was  the  only  one  who 
from  the  very  first  had  taken  to  the  tiger-like  barbarian.  With 
the  others  acquaintance  had  been  a slow  process,  not  unlike 
the  taming  of  gazelles.  The  maiden  bore  the  name  of  “ The 
Fragrant  Iris.”  She  now  sat  near  me,  murmuring  softlv  her 
very  small  vocabulary  of  Japanese  words  under  the  mistaken 
but  touching  impression  that  such  was  the  language  of  my 
heart.  Her  pretty  coquetry  stood  out  in  quaint  relief  against 
the  background  of  monkish  faces  that,  now  that  the  perform- 
ers were  resting,  were  turned  in  mute  attention  upon  us.  Win- 
some she  was ; and  as  my  eyes,  wandering  over  her  jet-black 
tresses,  simple  as  the  silver  pin  that  bound  them,  fell  at  last 
upon  her  upturned  hice,  in  the  smile  I found  there  I forgot 
that  I was  foreign  and  my  home  so  many  thousand  miles 
away. 

I waked  from  my  dream  of  beauty  with  a start.  The  actors 
were  about  to  begin.  Now  was  coming  what  was  to  be  the 
chef-d'oeuvre  of  the  evening,  — a series  of  character  representa- 
tions. They  are  the  nearest  relative  of  the  stage  that  exists 
in  Korea.  There  was  virtually  but  one  performer  ; for  though 
one  or  two  others  took  part  in  it  as  necessary  accessories,  they 
were  accessories  a long  way  after  the  fact,  and  served  rather 
as  shadows  to  bring  the  star  into  brighter  relief.  As  for  him, 
he  was  simply  capital.  Properties  there  were  none,  nor  was 
there  any  stage.  He  stood  there  before  us  with  only  such 
disguise  as  he  could  improvise  on  the  spur  of  the  moment. 
A few  more  or  a few  less  clothes,  — that  was  all.  Seizing  with 
a master  hand  upon  some  trait  of  Korean  manners,  he  would 
sketch  it  to  just  that  touch  beyond  the  life  which  makes  of 
the  every-day  the  comic.  Foreigners  and  natives,  we  were 
alike  carried  away. 


WINTER  REVELS  IN  A MONASTERY. 


371 


Now  he  is  a country  man  seeking  audience  of  a noble, 
in  order  to  prefer  some  longed-for  request,  and  trying  by  a 
thousand  wiles  to  persuade  the  guards  to  let  him  in.  He  is  a 
mixture  of  effrontery  and  winsomeness.  His  cajoleries  would 
certainly  have  moved  any  one  but  a professional  watch-dog.  At 
last  Cerberus  himself  is  won ; and  the  rustic,  having  succeeded 
in  fairly  forcing  an  entrance,  is  suffered  to  pass,  and  stands  in 
the  great  man’s  presence.  His  whole  manner  changes.  Of  a 
sudden  he  is  as  respectful  as  you  please.  Servility  would  find 
in  him  a model.  He  is  simple  and  yet  eloquent,  eminently  a 
man  to  have  his  requests  granted ; and  this  without  any  help 
from  a stage-setting,  with  nothing  but  an  imaginary  line  he  has 
drawn  upon  the  floor,  and  a very  poor  sham  noble  to  address. 

Now  he  is  a wayfarer  among  the  mountains,  suddenly  find- 
ing himself  face  to  face  with  a tiger ; and  then,  in  a twinkling, 
he  has  become  the  tiorer  himself.  I am  sure  the  original  could 
hardly  have  been  more  blood-curdling  in  his  growl.  We  all 
instinctively  shudder. 

Then  he  is  a counterfeit  blind  man  attempting,  by  this  dis- 
guise, to  traverse  the  city  after  dark,  and  so  evade  the  night 
patrol.  Blind  men  are  exempt  from  the  curfew  law ; and  there- 
fore to  become  such  for  the  crossing  is  a dodge  much  in  vogue 
among  the  astute,  and  consequently  the  impersonation  is  hugely 
appreciated  by  the  audience. 

Perhaps  the  best  of  all  was  his  take-off  of  the  tobacco-vender 
in  difficulties.  He  is  trying  to  sell  his  stuff,  and  in  spite  of 
consummate  skill  is  continually  failing.  He  is  just  on  the 
point  of  persuading  some  one  to  buy,  much  against  that  some 
one’s  will,  when  a misunderstanding  takes  place,  and  he  nar- 
rowly escapes  a row  in  consequence  ; and  then,  each  particu- 
lar dispute  passed,  he  relapses  again  into  his  inimitable  cry 
of  “ Tobacco  to  sell ! ” all  his  previous  slyness  sunk  in  the 
automatic  call  and  the  no  less  automatic  gesture. 


372 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENIHG  CALM. 


So  one  impersonation  followed  another.  The  performance 
knew  not  time.  We  were  carried  through  scenes  de  la  vie  de 
2))'ovince,  scenes  de  la  vie  SoidUenne.  Tigers,  rustics,  blind  men, 
all  passed  before  us  in  turn,  until  the  evening  had  long  ago 
waned  and  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  had  begun  to 
increase. 

It  was  time  to  end.  Tlie  performer,  who  smiled  all  over  as 
we  tried  to  convey  to  him  our  delight,  was  served  witli  a supper ; 
and  then  we  were  shown  to  our  cells.  As  I fell  off  to  sleep,  I 
found  myself  repeating  his  catching  cry  of  “Tobacco  to  sell!” 
and  the  echo  of  it  still  rings  in  my  ears  to-day. 

The  morning’s  sun  found  me  with  difficulty  as  it  struggled 
through  a bit  of  paper  that  covered  an  aperture  high  up  on 
one  side  of  a little  cell.  It  was  the  room  of  one  of  the  monks 
that  had  been  given  me  in  preference  to  sleeping  on  the  scene 
of  the  last  night’s  revels,  which  had  been  the  original  intention 
of  my  hosts.  Two  screens  and  the  wadded  quilt  that  served 
me  for  bed  were  all  that  the  cell  contained.  Two  screens 
seem,  perhaps,  hardly  the  most  approj^riate  fuimiture  for  a 
room  not  above  eight  feet  square.  But  it  is  not  as  furniture 
that  they  are  used.  They  are  settings  of  works  of  art.  They 
are  not  for  the  purpose  of  hiding  persons  in  the  same  room 
from  one  another,  but  as  a means  of  showing  off  pictures ; and 
they  vary  in  height  from  two  feet  to  eight.  One  of  these 
was  so  well  painted  that  I longed  to  have  it  greet  me  good- 
morning elsewhere.  Later  in  the  day,  Avhen  day-dreams  had 
given  place  to  realities,  I tried  to  buy  it.  Of  course  it  be- 
longed to  a friend,  and  of  course  he  was  off  on  a journey  into 
the  country,  so  they  said;  and  I liad  to  content  myself,  in 
place  of  possession,  with  a polite  excuse. 

We  spent  tlie  day  in  amusements  out-of-doors,  disporting 
ourselves  in  various  ways  up  and  down  the  glen.  Some  of  us 
took  strolls  to  see  the  ravine  and  get  distant  glimpses  of  the 


WINTER  REVELS  IN  A MONASTERY. 


373 


valley  below ; some  played  at  the  Korean  pitclipenny,  — a 
game  highly  in  vogue  at  that  time  in  the  metropolis,  — and 
the  fair  ones  found  great  enjoyment  in  the  riding  by  turns  of  a 
friend’s  pony.  Merriment  ran  riot ; and  the  shouts  and  laugh- 
ter came  ringing  up  to  me,  clear  and  sharp  from  across  the 
frozen  ravine,  as,  alone,  I wandered  about  in  search  of  photo- 
graphic sites.  Memories  of  Christmas  parties  on  the  other  side 
of  our  globe,  now  long  since  passed  away,  rose  up  before  me 
in  spite  of  the  changed  personnel,  and  I paused  in  my  walk  and 
listened  to  the  distant  sounds  of  mirtli  as  they  came  fainter  and 
fainter  from  farther  down  the  glen.  There  is  a sadness  in  that 
sharp  metallic  ring  from  a dead  landscape,  where  sound  itself 
wakes  no  sympathetic  chord  and  returns  in  echo  back  into  the 
air,  — a sadness  born  of  death.  And  the  fir-trees  and  the  snow 
softened  with  a touch  of  pathos  the  revelry  of  man. 

About  a quarter  of  a mile  above  the  monastery,  the  ravine 
comes  to  an  end,  and  here  the  timber  ceases.  Beyond  this  rise 
the  iraked  spurs  of  the  mountain.  Formed  of  very  fine  gravel 
or  sand,  it  is  almost  a marvel  that  they  can  lie  so  precipitously. 
Tlie  ridges  are  equally  sharp  in  front  and  on  the  sides,  and 
look  like  Imge  buttresses  to  the  central  peaks.  To  get  upon 
them,  though  a sharp  ascent,  is  a short  one.  By  mounting 
directly  back  of  the  buildings,  a hundred  yards  suffice  to  sink 
the  little  valley  and  all  it  contains  as  completely  as  if  it  had 
ceased  to  be.  No  sooner  had  we  reached  this  desert,  tilted  on 
edge,  as  it  were,  than  the  good  priests,  who  had  clung  to  me 
in  my  stroll,  Avarned  me  to  go  no  farther  for  fear  of  tigers. 
Such  a Avarning  seemed  quite  unnecessary.  Bare  sand-hills 
strike  one,  perhaps,  as  hardly  the  most  suitable  of  places  for 
the  animals.  The  higher  Ave  got,  the  more  urgent  became 
their  caution.  We  saw  no  tigers,  of  course ; but  they  exist 
neA’ertheless,  and  must  at  times  molest  the  monastery,  to  be 
so  eA’er  present  a subject  of  thought.  The  A'ieAA"  aboA^e  Avas 


374 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


very  striking.  Ridge  above  ridge  ran  np  in  front  till  tlie  light 
color  of  the  sand  changed  to  tlie  darker  tints  of  rock  that  formed 
the  higlier  peaks.  These  were  like  jagged  teeth,  so  sharj)  that 
the  snow  could  only  lie  on  them  in  patches.  But  yet,  singular 
to  tell  and  more  singular  still  to  see,  along  the  very  summit  ran 
an  outlying  branch  of  the  city’s  wall,  which  could  be  distinctly 
made  out,  even  at  the  distance  we  were  away.  It  was  one 
of  the  hank  walls,  — not  a portion  of  the  girdle  itself,  but  join- 
ing it  on  a part  of  the  mountain  nearer  town.  In  it  a large 
gate  stood  out  to  view,  apparently  the  counterpart  of  the  city 
gateways;  yet  it  was  several  miles  away  from  Soul,  and  was 
raised  some  tliousands  of  feet  above  the  city. 

The  taking  of  some  photographs  in  the  inner  courtyard 
brought  the  afternoon  to  a close,  and  helped  to  perpetuate,  at 
least  to  the  eye,  some  of  the  features  of  so  strange  a scene. 
Against  the  same  background,  tliat  of  the  wooden  fish,  priests 
and  players  alike  were  taken  in  turn,  — the  first  in  their  robes 
of  ceremony,  tlieir  hands  crossed  in  prayer.  Their  faces  were 
very  prepossessing.  As  a rule,  a monkish  life  is  conducive  to 
faces  that  are  either  stupid  or  sly ; but  in  the  far-East  the  ef- 
fect is,  for  some  reason,  to  take  away  their  ordinary  cunning 
look  and  leave  only  intelligence  and  goodness  behind.  Ten 
minutes  later,  their  place  was  occupied  by  the  players  in  an 
attitude  anything  but  devout.  I had  asked  for  the  tobacco 
scene,  and  the  actor  did  liis  best  to  reproduce  tlie  motion  that 
had  so  delighted  us.  So  ludicrous  was  it  that  several  of  the 
band  failed  to  keep  their  countenances,  in  spite  of  what  was 
to  them  a most  impressive  moment.  Tlie  monks,  too,  were  all 
anxious  to  see,  and  the  photograph  came  out  lined  by  an  ave- 
nue of  eager  faces;  for  it  was  impossible  wholly  to  curb  the 
good  men’s  curiosity,  and,  say  what  one  would,  to  make  them 
stand  back.  There  they  therefore  appear  now,  some  looking 
one  way,  some  the  other,  uncertain  whether  the  camera  or  the 


WINTER  REVELS  IN  A MONASTERY. 


375 


actor  is,  after  all,  the  more  engrossing  of  two  such  interesting 
sights. 

The  third  day  came  only  too  soon.  The  morning  was  all 
bustle ; it  took  sevei’al  hours  to  pack  up,  ready  for  transpor- 
tation, the  thousand  things  we  had  brought  with  us.  Then 
with  great  regret  we  prepared  to  forsake  a spot  around  whose 
desolate  grandeur  we  had  wrapped  so  many  brighter  memories. 
We  took  our  leave  of  the  good  monks,  gathered  in  a group  on 
the  steps.  They  were  sincerely  sorry  to  bid  us  good-by,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  indeed  we  were  taking  the  sunlight  away  Avith  us. 
We  passed  out  of  the  courtyard  and  down  the  path,  and  then, 
amid  the  icy  stillness  of  the  ravine,  followed  one  another  in 
scattered  file  under  the  towering  gloomy  firs.  We  talked  but 
little,  as  if  afraid  of  rousing  the  echoes  that  in  sorrow  had  fallen 
asleep.  The  place  was  too  much  in  keeping  with  the  feeling 
of  departure  for  speech ; it  had  itself  the  semblance  of  fare- 
well; and  a Avave  of  sadness  SAvept  over  me  at  the  thought  that 
the  winter  revels  at  the  monastery  of  the  Flower-Stream  Tem- 
ple had  already  become  a thing  of  the  past.  Like  their  OAvn 
Avinter’s  sunset,  they  seem,  as  I look  back  upon  them,  a flush 
of  color  through  a rift  in  the  distant  clouds,  lighting  up  for  one 
brief  moment  the  snoAvy  landscape  and  the  sombre  firs ; and 
then  it  settles  back  to  the  gray  and  the  cold  again,  and  earth 
and  sky  look  as  if  it  all  had  never  been. 


TIME. 


377 


him  liis  probable  error.  This  necessary  but  to  him  rather  dis- 
heartening calculation  gave  a result  of  about  four  minutes  for 
the  amount  he  was  probably  Avrong.  But,  as  I consolingly 
added,  he  might  of  course  be  exactly  right,  Avhile  on  the  other 
hand  I was  forced  to  admit  he  might  be  as  much  as  six  min- 
utes out  of  the  way ; and  Avithout  a nautical  almanac  or  a 
series  of  astronomical  observations  on  the  jAole-star,  it  was 
impossible  to  tell  AA'hich.  HoAvever  Ave  accepted  — he  and  I — 
his  noon  as  provisionally  coiTect,  so  much  more  dignified  did 
it  strike  us  to  liaA^e  our  OAvn  time  than  somebody  else’s,  even 
if  that  otlier  did  happen  to  be  more  exact. 

Time  is  purely  a Western  necessity.  The  A’ery  imperson- 
ality and  consequent  indiA’iduality  of  the  far-Oriental  renders 
him  superior  to  it.  He  has  no  engagements  to  meet,  and  there- 
fore he  needs  no  punctuality  to  meet  them.  Perhaps  no  better 
comment  upon  the  far-Eastern  Avant  of  this  last  virtue  need  be 
made  than  to  mention  that  the  Japanese  in\"ariably  appear  at 
any  entertainment  an  hour  and  a half  before  the  time  for  AA’hich 
they  are  invited.  Such  premature  unpunctuality  used  at  first 
to  cause  me,  as  unprepared  host,  no  slight  embarrassment.  In 
Korea  these  surprise  parties  fortunately  do  not  happen,  but 
simply  because  all  day  is  given  up  to  the  feast,  and  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  being  too  early. 

Still,  to  a certain  extent,  the  Koreans  deign  to  recognize 
time  as  in  some  sort  a sum  of  parts ; and  as  their  methods  of 
dividing  it  liaA’e  a quaintness  of  their  OAvn,  it  seems  to  me  not 
uninteresting  to  say  something  about  it. 

“ Better  fifty  years  of  Europe  than  a cycle  of  Cathay,”  — 
such  is  the  bitter  cry  of  comparison  that  breaks  from  the 
loA’e-sick  soliloquist,  in  one  of  the  grandest  poems  of  the  Eng- 
lish tongue,  as,  gazing  upon  the  picture  of  exile  his  despair  has 
conjured  up,  he  first  realizes  in  all  its  significance  what  life  in 
the  antipodes  means  to  life  at  home.  His  second  thought  Avas 


378 


THE  LAXD  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


indeed  better  than  liis  first  intention.  Five  years  of  the  life  of 
Western  civilization  are  certainly  to  be  preferred  to  six  spent  in 
the  far-East,  from  whatever  standpoint  we  regard  the  two ; for 
reduced  to  figures,  this  is  the  precise  value  of  the  above  poetic 
ratio.  Whether  the  poet  intended  so  modest  a comparison,  may 
perhaps  be  doubted ; but  in  the  minds  of  many  of  his  read- 
ers, at  least,  it  assumes,  with  most  appropriate  Oriental  dis- 
regard of  time,  proportions  altogether  different,  and  as  against 
half  a century  of  European  action  there  seem  to  stretch  awav, 
in  futile  competition,  long  indefinite  aeons  of  far-Eastern  un- 
eventfulness. 

A cycle  of  Cathay  is  a period  of  sixty  years.  Cathay  was 
the  name  given  to  the  Empire  of  China  by  the  nearer  East 
at  the  time  when  Marco  Polo  made  his  celebrated  journey 
thitlier,  and  brought  back  to  Europe  the  first  direct  news  from 
the  other  side  of  our  planet.  The  cycle  of  Cathay,  then,  is  the 
Chinese  cycle.  Instead  of  one  continuous  series  of  years,  start- 
ing from  some  marked  event  as  a beginning,  and  advancing 
steadily  forward,  while  at  the  same  time  this  event  serves  as 
a point  from  which  to  reckon  back,  as  is  the  case  with  Aryan 
or  Semitic  nations  far  enough  advanced  to  reckon  at  all,  the 
Chinese  have  used  for  ages,  and  as  they  pretend  from  their 
own  dim  origin,  a recurrent  C3^cle  of  sixty  j^ears  to  preserve  the 
memory  of  the  past.  There  is  a touch  of  poetic  justice  in  this 
measuring  of  time  by  a something  which  itself  has  neither  be- 
ginning nor  end,  — which,  though  progressing  ever,  comes  back 
again  to  its  own  starting-point  at  last.  It  is  tlie  carrying  into 
an  arbitraiy  apportionment  of  time  the  natural  completeness  of 
the  year  and  of  the  da}^  A somewhat  similar  system  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Greek  olympiads,  with  four  in  place  of  sixt3^  The 
cycles  are  looked  upon  as  units,  like  our  j^ears  ; and  in  like 
manner  to  the  years  of  other  chronologies  they  are  claimed 
to  date  from  an  initial  ejDOch.  This  epoch  differs,  however. 


TIME. 


379 


from  most  other  such  epochs  in  that  its  cause  is  no  definite, 
well-autlienticated  event,  but  the  mythological  beginning  of 
the  national  existence.  The  reckoning  partook  of  the  nature 
of  an  ex-post-facto  law,  and  was  counted  backward  to  what 
its  makers  imagined  the  remotest  possible  antiquity.  The 
august  Middle  Kingdom  has  stooped  to  follow  in  its  chro- 
nology the  method  pursued  by  certain  apothecaries  in  the 
numbering  of  their  prescriptions,  who,  instead  of  starting  with 
the  too  suggestively  initial  number  1,  commence  their  career 
wdth  the  more  imposing  figure  1,000,  in  order  thus  to  delude 
a simple  public  into  an  unmerited  confidence.  This  attempt 
to  be  chronologically  exact  about  facts  which  preceded  a 
chronology,  is  of  itself  suspicious.  The  dates  of  early  Chi- 
nese history  are  generally  disbelieved ; and  as  we  see,  addi- 
tional doubt  gathers  about  them  from  the  A^ery  mode  by  wdiich 
they  are  computed.  For  the  cycle  itself  in  its  composition 
suggests  still  further  question. 

The  formation  of  the  cycle  is  ingenious  enough.  Two  ele- 
ments enter  to  make  it  up,  and  each  of  these  is  a curious 
product  of  ancient  thought,  — the  one  of  philosophic,  the  other 
of  superstitious,  origin.  The  first  is  a set  of  ten  signs,  formed 
as  follows. 

In  Chinese  philosophy  there  are  two  great  principles,  which 
we  may  designate  as  the  male  and  the  female.^  From  these 
two  proceed  the  fi^’e  elements,  or  terrestrial  essences,  — fire. 


^ The  Koreans,  at  the  time  they  adopted  other  Chinese  customs,  Lecame  students 
of  Chinese  philosophy.  Converts  are  proverbially  more  zealous  than  those  who  inherit 
a belief.  It  is  perhaps,  therefore,  not  matter  for  surprise  that  in  ardent  admiration  of 
this  philosophy,  they  surpassed  even  their  teachers.  Now,  in  far-East- 
ern  philosophy  mystic  symbols  play  a very  important  role.  Among 
these,  perhaps  the  most  conspicuous  is  what  is  known  in  Japanese 
as  a tomoye,  a sort  of  scroll ; but  in  origin  it  is  not  Japanese,  but  Chi- 
nese. It  always  lies  coiled  within  a circle.  Sometimes  it  is  alone ; 
sometimes  two  scrolls  share  the  circle,  sometimes  three.  The  last 
is  the  commonest  number  in  Japan.  In  Korea  there  are  always  two ; and  they 
re2iresent  the  light  and  the  shade,  or  the  male  and  female  principles  of  Chinese 


380 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


water,  wood,  metal,  and  earth,  — and  each  of  these  again  may 
be  looked  upon  as  divided  into  the  elder  and  the  younger 
branch.  By  considering  the  five  alternately  in  these  two 
aspects,  we  obtain  ten  signs.  This  set  is  purely  of  Chinese 
conce^^tion,  so  far  as  is  known. 

About  the  other  there  is  more  question.  Twelve  signs  com- 
pose it,  known,  for  their  employment  also  on  shorter  divisions 
of  time,  as  the  horary  signs.  Whether  of  Chinese  invention  or 
gifts  from  the  invading  Tartar  hordes,  is  matter  of  doubt.  If 
the  latter,  one  of  the  few  possessions  the  emigrants  carried 
away  with  them  from  their  man-producing  but  otherwise  intel- 
lectually unproductive  land  were  their  household  gods  of  time. 
Like  our  signs  of  the  zodiac,  to  which  same  purpose  they  Avere 
also  applied,  they  Avere  a species  of  ideal  menagerie,  a grotesque 
assortment  of  beasts.  Unlike  ours,  hoAvever,  their  connection 
Avith  astronomy  Avas  one  of  matter-of-fact  allusion  rather  than 
poetic  illusion.  The  fertile  but  earth-begotten  imaginations  of 
early  astronomers  saw  in  the  heavens  the  starry  outlines  of  our 
OAvn;  but  no  one’s  fancy  ever  peopled  the  sky  Avith  these.  They 
Avere  of  purely  ideal  creation,  and  embodied  the  admirations 
and  fears  more  than  the  obsei’A'ations  of  the  inventors.  These 
twelve  genii  Avere  the  rat,  the  bull,  the  tiger,  the  hare,  the 
dragon,  the  snake,  the  horse,  the  goat,  the  monkey,  the  foAvl, 
the  dos:,  and  the  Avild  boar.*  The  services  this  collection  was  • 


philosophy.  They  arc  called,  in  Korean,  the  Yang  and  the  Ydng.  So  attached  are  the 
Koreans  to  this  symbol  that  it  may  he  considered  as  their  distinctive  mark,  or  national 
badge.  They  so  consider  it  themselves.  It  forms  the  centre  of  their 
national  flag;  adopted  when  they  entered  the  world,  just  as  before  it 
formed  the  central  figure  of  their  Red  Arrow  Gates,  the  outer  portal 
to  all  they  reverenced.  How  the  scroll  originally  came  to  be  in- 
vented, nobody  knows.  In  default  of  other  proof,  we  may  if  we  are 
fanciful,  see  in  it  the  germs  of  this  whole  universe,  folded,  waiting 
to  develop  in  the  primordial  circular  seed. 

^ In  Japanese  the  menagerie  is  arranged  in  a sort  of  distich,  as  follows : — 


“Np,  ushi,  tora,  u,  tatsu,  mi, 
t^ma,  hitsuji,  saru,  tori,  iuu,  i. 


TIME. 


381 


called  upon  to  render  were  as  various  as  the  collection  is 
motley.  Among  other  occupations  was  that  of  helping  in  the 
making  of  the  cycle. 

Now,  suppose  the  two  sets  — the  beasts  and  the  qualified 
elements  — arranged  in  parallel  columns,  each  set  repeated  in 
its  proper  order  in  its  own  column,  until  at  last  the  original 
combination  is  again  reached.  This  will  take  place,  of  course, 
after  six  repetitious  of  the  first  set  and  five  of  the  second. 
There  will  thus  be  formed  sixty  different  combinations,  — half 
the  number  of  possible  combinations  of  the  several  members  of 
the  two  sets  taken  two  at  a time  when  no  two  of  the  same  set 
are  allowed  to  stand  together.  These  slxtv  combinations,  taken 
in  their  order,  are  then  employed  to  designate  sixty  consecutive 
years,  at  the  expiration  of  which  time  the  cycle  begins  again. 
Each  combination  is  simply  a distinctive  name  for  a particular 
year,  and  has  no  meaning  in  itself.  “ Elder  earth  monkey,”  for 
instance,  is  as  unintelligible  to  a Chinaman  as  to  us. 

From  China  the  system  was  forced  upon  Korea.  In  fact, 
one  of  the  most  important  points  in  all  the  many  treaties  be- 
tween the  victorious  Chinese  and  the  vanquished  Koreans  was 
that  the  latter  should  receive  annually  from  Pekin  the  Chinese 
calendar. 

The  first  word  of  the  first  set,  pronounced  in  Sinico-Korean 
“ Kap,”  means  “the  beginning,  the  first;”  and  from  this  and 
the  mode  of  formation,  the  cycle  is  called,  in  Korea,  “ Ryuk 
Kap,”  or  “ the  six  beginnings.”  In  the  same  way  the  great 
anniversary  of  any  event,  which  takes  place  when  the  year 
with  the  same  name  as  the  one  in  which  the  event  happened 
returns  again  after  the  lapse  of  sixty  years,  is  called  “ Whan 
Kap,”  or  “ the  return  of  the  beginning.”  This  cyclical  anni- 
versary is  an  important  matter  in  Korean  social  customs.  It  is 
faintly  paralleled  by  our  centeuuials,  though  it  is  much  more 
of  an  event ; for  in  Korea  eveiything  has  its  sextennial,  and 


382 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MORNING  CALM. 


as  a sextennial  is  not  only  witliin  tlie  span  of  human  life, 
which  a centennial  very  seldom  is,  but,  what  is  much  more 
to  the  point,  is  often  possible  to  the  man  himself  for  well- 
remembered  and  important  acts  of  his  life,  — such,  for  instance, 
as  his  marriage,  — it  is  observed  with  a personal  enthusiasm 
which  the  anniversary  of  something  of  which  the  actors  have 
all  long  since  passed  away  can  but  rarely  inspire.  It  is  thus 
a diamond  wedding-  and  a centennial  all  in  one. 

The  cycle  is  only  one  of  the  ways  of  reckoning  the  years 
in  the  peninsula.  Designations  for  series  of  years  are  quite 
plenty.  There  is  a second  system,  by  which  the  years  are 
called  simply  after  the  twelve  signs  endlessly  repeated.  The 
year  of  the  tiger  is  a specially  fortunate  one  to  be  born  in. 
Then  there  is  still  a third  way.  The  Koreans,  though  they 
were  glad  enough  to  take  all  its  other  time  measures  from  the 
Middle  Kingdom,  only  partially  adopted  the  cycle.  The  tmth 
is,  the  Korean  kings  had  the  display  of  their  own  power  too 
much  at  heart.  They  preferred  to  stamp  the  years  with  their 
own  dynastic  seal.  The  years  do  not  change  with  each  new 
sovereign,  but  continue  to  increase  as  long  as  the  dynasty 
lasts.  The  year  1883  of  our  chronology  was  the  four  hundred 
and  ninety-second  of  the  present  dynasty. 

Descending  now  from  the  larger  division  to  the  smaller,  we 
come  next  to  the  year.  As  this  is  a natural  unit,  it  cannot  in 
the  long  run  differ,  the  world  over ; but  as  our  precision  in  the 
matter  is  wanting  in  the  far-East,  any  given  year  may  deviate 
considerably  from  the  true.  The  reason  of  tliis  inaccuracy  lies 
in  the  attempt  to  combine  lunations  and  years.  Instead  of  in- 
tercalating days,  as  we  do,  they  are  obliged  to  wait  till  they 
can  intercalate  moons.  The  time  of  beginning,  therefore,  oscil- 
lates about  a certain  mean  starting-point,  with  which  it  never 
coincides,  and  from  whicli  it  may  depart  some  fifteen  days. 
This  starting-point  is  placed  at  the  latter  end  of  January,  so 


TIME. 


383 


tliat  the  Korean  year  begins  about  a month  later  than  oiir  own. 
Every  year  must  consist  of  one  whole  number  of  lunations,  — or 
moons,  as  in  the  language  of  the  country  they  are  more  directly 
called.  Now,  as  the  time  of  a lunation  is,  roughly,  twenty-nine 
and  a half  days,  a thirteenth  moon  had  from  time  to  time  to  be 
intercalated.  According  to  the  well-known  cycle  of  the  moon, 
called  “ Saros,”  seven  additional  moons  must  be  given  to  eveiy 
nineteen  years.  Then,  again,  a lunation  consisting  of  fractional 
days,  — twenty-nine  and  a half,  — the  moons  of  the  calendar 
are  made,  alternately,  long  moons  of  thirty  days  and  short  ones 
of  twenty-nine.  The  first  is  a long  month,  called  simply  “great 
moon  ; ” the  second  a short  one,  the  third  long,  and  so  on.  To 
make  matters  still  further  right,  the  intercalated  moon  is  long  or 
short,  according  as  the  reckoning  is  in  retard  or  advance. 

The  moons  are  divided  into  three  parts  of  ten  days  each ; 
but  such  division  is  not  much  used,  the  daj^s  being  commonly 
known  by  their  position  in  the  month.  As  for  weeks,  they 
were  originally  unknown  throughout  the  far-East,  and  are  still 
unknown  in  China  and  Korea.  In  Japan,  in  imitation  of  for- 
eign custom,  they  have  to  a certain  extent  been  introduced,  and 
the  days  named,  after  the  sun,  moon,  and  fire  elements,  — 

Sun  day,  Water  day, 

Moon  day,  . Wood  day. 

Fire  day,  Metal  day, 

Earth  day. 

The  week  not  only  has  no  immediate  phenomena  to  suggest  it, 
except  the  approximate  quarterings  of  the  moon,  but  it  has  the 
disadvantage  of  introducing  two  incommensurate  periods  of 
time  running  on  side  by  side  with  each  other,  so  that  neither 
in  the  past  did  it,  nor  as  a result  of  Jesuitical  teachings  does  it, 
commend  itself  to  the  far-Eastern  mind. 

The  day  is  divided  into  twelve  hours,  each  of  which  is  thus 
twice  as  long  as  one  of  our  own.  It  begins,  like  our  civil 


384 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


day,  at  midniglit.  Here  appears  again  the  catalogue  of  beasts. 
Besides  the  use  already  spoken  of,  there  are  three  other  impor- 
tant Avays  in  which  they  are  employed.  These  are  all  as  angu- 
lar measurements ; but  beyond  the  fact  of  a common  circular 
conception,  they  are  as  heterogeneous  as  possible.  The  signs 
are  : first,  horary  signs ; secondly,  zodiacal  signs ; and  thirdly, 
points  of  the  compass.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  hour  of  the 
rat,  the  sun’s  place  in  the  rat,  and  the  direction  of  the  rat.  The 
first  is  midnight ; the  second  marks  the  beginning  of  the  year, 
and  the  third  denotes  the  north.  Tlie  Koreans  have  no  watches 
nor  clocks.  If  they  had,  Ave  miglit  suppose  that  the  rotations 
had  beeii\ based  upon  them  ; for  tlie  first  and  third  are  what  are 
technically  knoAA’ii  as  left-handed  rotations, — that  is,  rotations 
in  the  same  direction  in  Avhich  the  hands  of  a clock  move. 
Thus  in  the  compass  the  order  of  the  signs  — the  rat,  the  bull, 
etc.  — moA’e  round  from  the  north  through  the  north-northeast 
and  so  on  south  and  Avest,  north  again.  The  number  of  divis- 
ions adopted  is  unfortunate  ; for  tlie  points  of  the  compass 
naturally  divide  themselves  into  subdiAusions  of  four,  Avhile 
there  are  tAvelve  signs  to  represent  them.  To  designate  a 
cardinal  point,  therefore,  as  the  east,  a compound  of  two  of 
them  has  to  be  employed,  and  the  point  is  called  “ the  direc- 
tion of  the  tiger-hare.”  The  needle  they  regard  as  pointing 
to  the  south. 

Each  hour  is  divided  into  eight  parts,  which  are  again  sub- 
divided into  fifteen.  Hence  these  last  are  exactly  equiA^alent 
to  our  minutes  in  leno-th. 

O 

Connected  Avith  the  subject  of  time  is  that  of  people’s  ages. 
Here  impersonality  steps  in  again  in  a sadly  autocratic  Avay. 
There  is  in  use  a sort  of  Procrustean  measure  of  life,  to  which 
CA’erybody  is  fitted  for  greater  convenience.  An  individual 
reckoning  of  one’s  age  is  accounted  an  unnecessary  luxury ; 
one  measure  is  quite  sufficient  for  all,  and  the  smallest  division 


TIME. 


385 


recognized  is  tlie  j^ear.  The  moment  an  infant  is  born  he  is 
said  to  be  a year  old ; and  he  continues,  in  easy  simplicity  of 
calculation,  to  be  this  age  until  the  coming  of  the  next  Xew 
Year.  With  the  first  day  of  the  New  Year  he,  together  with 
eveiybody  else  in  the  community,  advances  a peg.  By  a sud- 
den jump  he  finds  himself  promoted  to  the  dignity  of  a second 
year,  although  he  may  chance  to  have  been  born  only  the  even- 
ing before.  An  infant  is  thus  from  his  birth  preternaturally  old. 
He  may  be  two  years  older  than  he  is,  and  he  must  be  one 
The  sedate,  almost  sad  look  of  age  in  Japanese  babykind,  so 
striking  to  all  foreigners,  is  undoubtedly  an  attempt  on  the 
part  of  the  little  ones  to  seem  what  they  are  considered  to 
be.  On  the  average,  then,  a year  and  a half  must  be  deducted 
from  the  age  anybody  calls  himself,  to  find  out  how  old  he 
really  is. 

Time  in  the  far-East  is  not  money.  It  is  only  very  roughly 
a measure  of  value ; and  in  no  sense  whatever  is  it  a medium  of 
exchange,  for  it  is  valueless. 


85 


A PREDICAMENT. 


387 


affectionate  thought,  and  begged  me  to  open.  I did  so,  and 
discovered  two  large  gilt  pills.  Whether  I had  had  a slight 
cold  on  the  occasion  of  his  last  visit,  or  Avhether  this  attention 
was  due  simply  to  a general  medicinal  appropriateness  to  the 
season  of  the  year,  I do  not  clearly  remember.  Rather  to  his 
chagrin,  instead  of  swallowing  them  on  the  spot,  I carefully  did 
them  lip  again  (they  were  far  too  beautiful  to  be  eaten,  besides 
being  uncertain  and  unnecessary),  and  put  them  aside  to  keep. 
Their  efficacy  should  have  been  above  scepticism,  however ; for 
if  ever  nostrums  came  heralded  with  vouchers,  they  did.  In 
Korea,  medicine  is  an  heirloom  from  hoary  antiquity.  An 
apothecary’s  shop  there  needs  not  to  adorn  itself  ivith  exter- 
nal and  irrelevant  charms,  like  the  beautiful  purple  jar  that  so 
deceived  poor  little  Rosamond.  Upon  eminent  respectability 
alone,  it  bases  its  claim  to  custom  ; and  its  traditions  are  cer- 
taiidy  convincing.  Painted  upon  suitable  spots  along  the  front 
of  the  building  runs  the  legend,  Sin  Xong  Yu  Op, — that  is, 
“the  profession  left  behind  by  Sin  Xong.”  This  eminent  per- 
son was  a “spiritual  agriculturist,”  the  discoverer  of  both  agri- 
culture and  medicine ; and  the  pills  sold  in  the  shojis  to-day 
are  supposed  to  be  the  counterparts  of  those  invented  by  him. 
AVorthilyto  render  the  legend,  we  ought  to  translate  it,  “Jones, 
successor  to  -LEsculapius.” 

But  at  last  I could  no  longer  postpone  my  postponements, 
and  a day  was  fixed, — a day  which  to  them  too  ivas  in  some  sort 
to  be  a day  of  departure,  for  they  had  resolved  to  accompany 
me  to  the  seashore  to  say  farewell. 

There  are  several  distinct,  or  rather  individual  but  indistinct, 
roads  from  Soul  to  Chemulpo.  Fortunately,  I was  aware  of 
this  fact  before  we  started ; but  I acquired  much  more  accu- 
rate information  about  it,  unfortunately,  in  the  course  of  the 
da}’.  The  eventful  morning  dawned  brighter  and  warmer  than 
any  of  its  predecessors,  and  tinged  with  a fitting  sort  of  farewell 


388 


THE  LA^sD  OF  THE  MOR]SHNG  CALM. 


glory  the  empty  house  and  the  hustling-  courtyard.  Within, 
the  littered  floors  spoke  reproachfully  of  desertion  ; and  the 
rooms  whose  flttings,  for  the  })artial  absence  of  furniture,  had 
been  so  largely  personal,  were  left  all  tlie  more  desolate  now 
that  these  were  gone.  Without,  the  piles  of  baggage  were 
slowly  being  eaten  into  by  tlie  numerous  porters,  while  peo- 
ple who  came  to  sa}"  good-by  threaded  their  way  through 
them  as  best  they  might.  But  there  was  little  leave-taking 
here,  because  so  many  were  to  go  to  Chemulpo.  There  was 
only  the  place  itself  to  bid  good-by  to.  Its  austere  grandeur 
had  put  on  the  warm  spring  sunshine  of  a smile.  Perhaps,  too, 
a little  parting  sentiment  was  not  out  of  place,  in  order  to  see 
it  as  one  who  had  been  almost  a Korean  should,  that  thus  he 
might  appreciate  it  with  that  becoming  fervor  which  caused  the 
compiler  of  my  Korean  atlas  to  break  forth,  in  peroration,  in 
his  description  of  the  place,  into  the  following  rhapsody  : — 

“ In  the  midst  of  all  these  provinces  lies  the  Korean  Light. 
All  the  mountain-ranges  converge  to  this  ; to  this  run  all  the 
streams.  The  origin  of  all  the  latitudes,  the  origin  of  all  the 
longitudes,  traverse  this  point.  Indeed,  it  is  the  centre  of  all 
and  evervthing.  It  has  the  Flowery  Mountain  standing-  at  its 
north.  It  has  the  Korean  River  running  at  its  south.  It  takes 
in  the  Watch-Gate  Peak  at  its  left.  It  makes  the  Flowing  Sea 
encircle  it  on  its  right.  Its  people  all  enjoy  the  blessings  of 
peace  ; and  their  customs  are  the  result  of  their  highest  culture. 
Moreover,  the  roads  to  the  metropolis  — all  of  them  — c’-e 
straight ; and  upright  is  the  throne  that  faces  to  the  south.  It 
is  like  unto  the  capital  of  China  under  the  dynasty  Shu.  Such 
capitals  as  the  Eastern  Watch-Gate  or  the  Western  Watch- 
Gate  of  China  are  not  even  to  be  compared  with  it.  The 
Heavenly  Metropolis ! The  Golden  Castle ! In  truth,  we 
should  congratulate  it  for  the  greatness  it  has  had,  and  that 
it  will  have  forever.  Ah  ! what  a greatness  ! ” 


A PREDICAMEXT. 


389 


We  made  wliat  is  known  as  a flying  start,  — that  is,  we  all 
got  off  when  we  pleased ; for  whether  the  last  caught  up  with 
the  first  before  tiffin  or  not  mattered  but  little,  as  travelling  in 
covered  palanquins  is  not  at  best  conducive  to  great  sociability, 
and  we  knew  that  Avhen  the  first  should  stop  to  dine,  the  others 
must  necessarily  overtake  them.  It  so  tiu-ned  out  that  I and 
my  Japanese  secretary  brought  up  the  rear.  Then,  from  hav- 
ing to  go  to  one  or  two  places  in  the  city  off  the  direct  road, 
we  got  still  further  belated.  The  last  of  these  visits  happening 
to  lie  near  the  Southwest  Gate  caused  us  to  leave  town  by  it 
rather  than  by  the  more  customary  Southern  one.  From  these 
two  gates  to  the  various  ferries  is  a very  criss-cross  of  paths, 
so  that  a departure  by  the  one  does  not  necessitate  a failure  to 
turn  up  safely  at  the  other’s  more  proper  ferry.  This  I was 
anxious  to  do,  as  I was  not  so  familiar  Avith  the  paths  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river.  For  a change  I was  mounted  on  a 
Korean  pony  in  tow  of  a coolie,  Avho  Avalked  in  front  dragging 
the  connecting  rope,  Avhile  my  young  Japanese,  from  not  having 
as  yet  full}"  recovered  from  a long  and  serious  illness,  Avas  bun- 
dled snugly  up  in  a box.  SIoav  as  the  horse  Avas,  he  Avas  so 
much  faster  than  the  chair-bearers  that  I soon  lost  sight  of  them 
behind.  We  — the  tOAA’-coolie  and  I — j)lodded  methodically 
fonvard,  bnt  still  Avithout  turning  in  the  slightest  to  the  left, 
as  we  should  haA"o  done,  so  I reasoned,  to  take  us  to  the  other, 
the  commoner  ferry.  I said  nothing,  for  I supposed  the  coolie 
kneAV  Avhat  he  Avas  about.  Still,  I became  sufficiently  uneasy 
to  be  continually  on  the  lookout  for  signs  that  the  others  had 
taken  the  same  route  I Avas  then  travelling;  because,  for  all 
T kneAV  to  the  contrary,  the  coolie  might  be  simply  folloAving 
instructions  they  had  given  him.  Once  I had  a painful  dis- 
heartenment  from  being  the  A’ictiin  of  illusive  appearances. 
Among  my  baggage  somewhere  on  the  road,  I kneAv,  Avas  a 
large  Korean  Avardrobe,  or  chest  of  draAvers,  Avhicli  my  hosts 


390 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


had  had  made  for  me,  and  which,  among  other  slight  souvenirs, 
I had  decided  to  take  awav.  On  descending-  a certain  hill  I 

«/  O 

thought  I descried  it  ahead;  and  I rejoiced  in  spirit,  not  so 
much  for  its  own  safety  as  for  affording  me  at  least  a proba- 
bility that  the  rest  of  tlie  company  had  gone  this  way.  But, 
alas  ! on  a nearer  approach,  I perceived  it  to  be  only  some- 
body else’s  bit  of  furniture. 

Finally  we  reached  the  river,  and,  in  fulfilment  of  my  w'orst 
suspicions,  at  the  upper  ferry.  Not  liking  over  much  the  situa- 
tion, I waited  here  some  time  for  the  box  witli  the  Japanese ; 
but  as  it  failed  to  make  its  appearance,  I at  last  reluctantly 
crossed  on  one  of  the  boats.  I was  so  absorbed  in  tlie  gath- 
ering gloom  of  uncertainty  that  I quite  omitted  to  pay  the 
ferryman  for  his  service, — a customary  civility,  the  omission 
of  which  caused  me  much  pain  when  I suddenly  awoke  to  the 
consciousness  of  what  I had  done,  after  I had  got  half  a mile 
off.  However,  as  officials  always  cross  in  this  lordly  way,  it 
was  not  so  cavalier  a proceeding,  I reflected  self-consolingly,  as 
it  seemed.  Arrived  on  the  farther  bank,  we  turned  off  to  the 
right,  and  then  bent  more  and  more  away  from  the  line  of  the 
other  road,  while  my  uneasiness  grew  with  each  new  mile  we 
put  between  where  we  were  and  where  I would  be.  Nothing 
was  to  be  seen  of  the  Japanese ; and  whenever  I tried  to  inter- 
view the  coolie,  he  replied  that  it  was  all  nght,  — it  was  the  road 
to  Chemulpo.  To  know  that  it  was  the  road  to  Chemulpo  was 
something;  but  did  it  connect  before  this  eventual  bourne  with 
the  other  one,  which  I began  to  be  more  and  more  sure  was 
the  one  the  rest  of  them  had  taken  ? This  I could  not  find 
out ; and  still  Ave  kept  getting  farther  and  farther  from  it.  I 
thought  of  taking  the  law,  represented  by  the  tow-rope,  into 
my  own  hands  and  striking  across  the  fields  ; but  no  sooner 
had  I nearly  resoh^ed  to  do  so  than  I Avas  checked  by  the 
second  thought  that  perhaps  by  so  doing  I Avas  abandoning 


A PREDICAMENT. 


391 


the  true  short-cut  for  an  impossible  bit  of  country.  It  became 
unpleasantly  evident  tliat  for  some  time,  if  not  for  all  day,  I 
was  to  be  sufficient  unto  myself ; so  I proceeded  to  hunt  in 
my  pockets  for  a cigar,  to  help  my  meditation  and  take  the 
place  of  the  food  I was  not  going  to  get.  To  my  horror,  I had 
not  one  left.  Here  was  a tragic  situation  ! Unfortunately,  it 
was  real.  No  tobacco  ! And  then,  as  a minor  inconvenience, 
no  food  ! For  only  in  tlie  direst  extremity  would  I have  taken 
what  could  be  got  by  the  way,  which  the  Koreans,  in  a manner 
that  unpleasantly  suggested  infancy,  called  “pap.” 

Here  was  a ridiculous  situation  for  a man  to  find  himself  in. 
To  be  lost  going  into  a strange  country  would  have  been  per- 
haps pardonable,  but  to  be  lost  coming  out  was  preposterous  ; 
and  all  because  the  coolie  was  a first-class  automaton,  over 
which  I had  little  or  no  control.  I seemed  to  myself  like  a 
man  in  an  elevator  he  is  unable  to  stop.  The  automaton  at  the 
end  of  the  tow-rope  was  wound  up  to  go  to  Chemulpo,  and  go 
he  would;  and  I followed,  — a prey  alternately  to  dread  lest  by 
keeping  on  I might  be  going  farther  astray,  and  fear  that  if  I 
turned  back  I should  miss  the  only  possible  exit. 

So  matters  continued  till  the  coolie  stopped  at  a wayside 
restaurant  to  refresh  himself  with  “ pap.”  I seized  the  oppor- 
tunity to  question  the  bystanders  on  the,  to  me,  all-absorbing 
subject  of  information,  by  drawing  diagrams  on  the  ground  with 
a stick.  Bv  this  efficient  method  I discovered  that  there  was 
]io  connecting  road  this  side  of  Chemulpo.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  then  but  to  return  on  m3'  traces  a short  distance  back, 
and  then  strike  across  country  on  guesswork.  This  the  coolie, 
whose  sole  idea  was  to  get  to  Chemulpo,  was  even  more  loath 
to  do  than  the  horse,  who  had  the  same  idea  of  the  necessit}^ 
for  proceeding  straight  forward,  but  much  less  bigotedl}'  devel- 
oped. But  b}'  dint  of  determination,  supplemented  b}’  a free 
use  of  m3’  whip,  we  all  three  soon  found  ourselves  threading 


392 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNTNG  CALM. 


our  way  on  top  of  one  of  the  raised  paths  through  the  rice- 
fields,  with  an  uncomfortably  speedy  prospect  of  even  this 
slender  assistance  giving  out. 

After  a half-mile  or  so  it  did  come  to  an  end ; and  then  I 
was  as  completely  at  sea  on  land  as  a man  can  well  be,  and 
the  coolie  knew  less  about  our  whereabouts  than  I.  Whenever 
we  struck  a road  that  headed  in  the  direction  of  Chemulpo,  he 
was  for  taking  it  instead  of  continuing  on  at  right  angles.  I 
began  myself  to  alternate  between  despair  that  the  main  road 
was  very  fiir  off  and  fear  lest  I should  not  recognize  it  when 
I struck  it.  Of  course,  therefore,  long  before  I expected  it  we 
came  out  upon  it,  and  I knew  it  at  once. 

Once  on  the  path,  I became  a prey  to  another  fear.  I began 
to  be  afraid  that  I was  so  far  behind  that  I should  never  catch 
up  with  the  Koreans ; for  by  tliis  time  they  had  got  a long 
start  of  me.  I liad  not  been  on  it  five  minutes  when  luckily 
I met  a Japanese  in  a chair  bound  up  to  Soul.  I clutched 
him,  as  it  were,  so  glad  I felt,  and  extracted  from  him  the 
happy  news  tliat  a band  answering  my  description  were  rest- 
ing a short  distance  in  advance  of  me  ; and  sure  enough  there 
they  still  were  as  I rose,  after  descending  a gully,  to  a view 
ahead.  I should  like  to  say  I clapped  spurs  to  my  horse,  for 
I heartily  wished  I could  have  done  so  at  the  time  ; but  the 
expression  would  be  grossly  exaggerated,  for  any  such  speed 
was  utterly  out  of  the  question.  But  I did  manage,  I remem- 
ber, to  cause  the  beast  to  exceed  the  orthodox  walk,  and  was 
welcomed,  as  I jumped  off,  as  one  come  back  from  the  dead. 

The  rest  of  the  journey  was  uneventful  enough.  At  the  top 
of  a little  ravine  stood  the  same  old  man,  the  sign-post ; and  I 
fancied  he  leered  in  grotesque  recognition  as  we  passed ; but 
it  may  have  been  the  effect  of  the  sunlight. 

Just  as  the  sun  was  going  down  we  topped  the  last  rise,  and 
saw  the  sea  below  us.  There  in  the  offing  lay  the  steamer  we 


A PKEDICAMENT, 


393 


liad  come  to  meet ; for  in  leaving  Soul  even  after  the  spring 
had  opened,  one  had  to  wait  till  the  news  that  a steamer  was 
in  had  reached  the  Japanese  legation  in  the  capital.  Other- 
wise, whoever  went  down  on  the  chance  might  have  to  wait 
forever  at  Chemulpo  ; for  at  the  time  of  which  I write  no 
postal  arrangements  bound  Korea  to  the  rest  of  the  world. 
It  was  all  a private  matter  of  the  Japanese  legation.  The 
moment  a vessel  arrived  at  Chemulpo,  a courier  Avas  de- 
spatched up  to  them  at  Soul,  and  returned  the  next  day  with 
their  despatches  home.  As  soon  as  the  courier  reached  them, 
they  kindly  informed  the  few  other  foreigners  of  the  fact,  and 
took  charge  of  any  letters  they  might  have  to  send. 

There  she  lay,  the  messenger  from  the  outer  Avorld.  She 
turned  out  not  to  be  the  boat  we  thought  she  was  Avhen  Ave  left 
Soul.  But  the  boat  Ave  expected  from  Nagasaki  arrived  the 
next  day,  so  that  our  stay  in  Chemulpo  Avas  short ; and  Ave 
Avere  again  the  guests  of  the  kindly  consul. 

That  night  Hong  gaA*e  us  a farewell  feast  in  one  of  the 
Japanese  restaurants,  of  mushroom  groAvth.  The  pretty 
“ nesan Avith  their  artificial  toddle  and  bashful  “ he’s,” 
seemed  already  a foretaste  of  the  future  in  the  midst  of 
this  mournfully  jovial  ending  of  the  past. 

The  next  day  Hong  returned  to  the  capital ; and  the  day 
after  from  the  steamer’s  deck  I A\atched  the  coast  recede,  Avhile 
the  Cock’s-comb,  toAvering  higher  aboA’e  the  nearer  hills  as  Ave 
got  farther  and  farther  aAvay,  as  if  to  mark  where  Soul  the 
secluded  lay,  lingered  Avith  us  till  Ave  were  far  at  sea. 


THE  BEACONS  OF  PUSAN. 


395 


the  same  crowd  to  see  me  land,  the  same  idlers  in  the  square, 
and  the  same  Korean  venders  of  knick-knacks,  squatting  beside 
their  goods  spread  out  before  them  on  the  ground.  Only  the 
eyes  with  which  I saw  it  all  had  changed.  What  then  had 
seemed  to  me  so  odd  no  longer  struck  me  as  in  any  way  pe- 
culiar. I had  ceased  to  notice.  The  dawn  of  acquaintance 
had  broadened  into  the  noonday  light  of  familiarity,  and  the 
contrasts  had  disappeared  in  the  glare. 

J , I learned,  was  still  in  the  Customs;  and  there  I found 

him  at  his  desk,  grown  now  an  old  habitue  of  the  place.  He 
j:)romised  to  tiffin  with  me,  and  at  the  hour  agreed  upon  we  met 
in  the  same  restaurant  we  had  dined  in  when  I went  away. 
Nothing  had  been  changed.  The  same  tea-house  girl  waited 
on  us,  and  remembered  that  she  had  done  so  in  the  past.  Only 
the  manner  of  her  hair  showed  that  she  had  since  been  married. 
Through  the  opened  shoji  we  saw  the  sunlight  of  the  street 
below,  the  trees  just  answering  the  warmth,  tlie  Japanese 
wending  their  ways  hither  and  thither,  and  stopping,  with  their 
ceremonious  bows,  as  they  met  a friend,  to  chat  awhile.  In- 
consequently  we  fell  to  talking  of  the  past,  — of  the  winter 
that  had  gone,  of  the  new  of  a few  months  before  so  soon 
become  the  old,  and,  paradoxically,  of  what  had  been  in  a 
place  whose  career  was  only  just  opening  to  the  world.  Then 
the  present  itself  became  a past.  He  returned  to  his  post,  and 
I wandered  up  to  the  top  of  the  little  hill  in  front  and  sat 
down  on  the  grass. 

To  all  imaginative  people  it  is  not  so  much  what  they  are 
saying  good-b}^  to  as  the  fact  that  they  are  saying  good-by 
which  touches  them  at  the  moment.  It  is  only  after  the  fact 
that  they  awake,  as  it  Avere,  to  the  magnitude  of  their  loss  ; at 
the  time  the  indefinite  sentiment  largely  drowns  the  personal  re- 
gret. There  is  nothing  new  in  all  this,  — it  is  as  old  as  poetry; 
but  perhaps  it  will  explain  why  I sat  so  long  on  the  grass  looking 


396 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOENING  CALM. 


at  the  blue  sea,  wliile  tlie  ■wind  caressing-ly  wooed  the  land 
back  again  to  warmth,  and  why,  Avhen  later  I stood  on  the 
deck  of  the  steamer  bidding  my  few  friends  in  Fusan  good-by, 
I felt  strangely  the  severing  of  the  last  strand  of  a tie  which, 
for  comfort  at  least,  had  not  been  wholly  a chain  of  roses. 

Perhaps,  also,  it  will  explain  why,  as  night  fell,  I might 
have  been  caught  leaning  with  my  arms  on  the  rail,  my  head 
in  my  hands,  staring  long  and  earnestly  at  the  Korean  hills 
as  they  sank  slowly  into  the  west.  I had  come  up  to  pace  the 
deck.  I looked  about  me.  We  were  already  well  at  sea,  and 
steaming  hist  across  the  straits  for  the  islands  of  Japan.  For 
a moment  it  came  over  me  ivith  a sense  of  power,  — this  vessel, 
solitary  in  the  vast  gloaming;  and  then  instinctively  my 
thoughts,  and  I their  creature,  turned  back  again  toward  the 
land  I was  leaving.  j\Iy  walk  slackened,  stopped ; I rested 
one  hand  upon  the  rail,  and  stood  still  there  — gazing. 

I was  alone  on  deck.  The  crew,  as  is  their  wont  at  times, 
had  mysteriously  vanished.  There  was  no  one  near  to  check 
the  current  of  memories  that  swept  over  me,  or  break  in  upon 
my  farewell  reverie  with  Korea.  The  ship  seemed  deserted. 
Onlv  the  throb  of  the  enmne  and  the  lono-  streamer  of  smoke 
huiTying  ceaselessly  to  leeward  spoke  to  me  of  a presence  other 
than  my  own.  It  jarred  upon  me,  — this  breathing  monster 
with  its  counterfeit  humanity,  — till  at  last  its  very  pulse- 
like rhythm  brouglit  with  it  oblivion  to  its  presence,  and  I 
forgot  it. 

I seemed  to  be  all  alone  with  the  distant  land.  Over  against 
me  rose  the  hills  along  the  coast,  there  in  the  twilight,  across 
the  waters.  Peaceful,  calm,  already  like  to  their  own  memory 
they  seemed ; and  all  the  more  a phantasm  that  the  sea  was 
rough.  A stiff  breeze  was  blowing  in  from  the  soutlnvard,  and 
the  wind  tossed  the  water  into  restless  crests  and  hollows,  and 
blew  intrusively  across  my  face  the  salt  smell  of  the  ocean.  A 


THE  BEACONS  OF  PUSAN. 


397 


sense  of  separation  lay  in  it,  snch  as  no  placid  sea  could  give. 
The  assertion  of  its  existence,  brooking  no  ignoring,  raised  of 
itself  a barrier  to  the  mind,  and  separated  me,  to  fancy  no  less 
surely  than  in  fact,  from  the  far  black  profile  of  the  hills.  I clung 
to  it  all  the  more  longingly,  — this  profile,  — as  one  hangs  over 
the  picture  of  a friend  Avhen  the  man  himself  can  be  seen  no 
more.  The  glory,  as  it  lingered  in  the  Avest,  touched  the  clouds 
Avith  color,  and  tlircAv  the  hills  into  ever-deepening  silhouettes 
against  the  sky.  It  set  them  in  a framing  of  crimson;  the  crim- 
son turned  to  violet,  and  then  the  A'iolet  disappeared  in  ash. 
The  sunset  Avas  gone.  Yet  the  pitiless  sea  stayed  not.  SIoavIa’, 
steadily,  inch  by  inch,  it  crept  up  along  the  dark  line  of  their 
bases,  robbing  me  of  all  that  alone  remained  to  me  of  Korea. 
But  night,  in  her  compassion,  Avas  SAvifter  than  even  the  all- 
deAmuring  sea.  The  past  Avas  not  thus,  piecemeal,  to  disappear. 
It  should  be  taken  as  it  Avas,  entire,  that  it  might  remain,  in  all 
its  beauty,  a memory  forever ; and  so  she  threAv  OA^er  the  hills 
her  mantle  of  darkness,  and  gathered  them,  safe  from  harming 
change,  to  thought-land  aAvay. 

Still  I stood  motionless,  gazing  after  Avhat  had  been,  filled 
Avith  that  vague  expectancy  begotten  of  desire,  as  if  that  Avhich 
Ave  knoAv  has  departed  could,  at  our  Avish,  Avere  it  only  strong 
enough,  be  brought  back  again  to  life,  — if  only  Ave  might  once 
more  see  Avhat  but  uoav  has  vanished  never  to  return.  The 
light  had  gone  from  the  AA^estern  sky,  the  sea  had  turned  to  a 
sullen  black  saA'e  Avhere  it  still  gaA'e  out  a phosphorescent  shim- 
mer of  its  OAvn,  and  the  stars  glimmered  faintly  forth  through  a 
soft  thin  haze,  Avhen  from  amid  the  pall-like  darkness,  as  if  in 
response  to  my  yearning,  of  a sudden  I saAv  come  out,  high  up 
AA’here  the  mountain-side  had  vanished,  tAvo  gloAving  deep-red 
balls  of  flame.  Y"hat  Avere  they  — these  ansAvers  to  my  call, 
these  mysterious  gloAv-fires  so  different  from  all  around  — that 
had  suddenh’,  silently  looked  out  into  the  night'?  They  were 


398 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  MOKNING  CALM. 


not  stars.  They  were  too  lurid,  too  large,  too  human.  Then  it 
flashed  across  me.  They  were  the  beacons  above  Pusan  ; and 
with  a rush  of  memory,  I bethought  me  what  they  meant.  At 
this  very  moment  the  message  from  the  coast  was  speeding 
inland.  A few  moments  more,  and  the  watchfires  on  Nam  San 
would  tell  the  capital  of  the  scene  about  me.  Could  they  not, 
would  they  not,  tell  her  of  the  wanderer  too  ? They  were 
human-born ; they  seemed  human-like ; and  I felt  them,  like 
two  great  eyes  fastened  on  me  from  out  the  gloom.  To  others 
they  s2)oke  only  of  peace,  of  quiet ; but  to  me  they  seemed  to 
have  come  to  bid  farewell,  and  as  I looked  uj)  at  them  I felt 
they  were  also  looking  down  on  me. 

For  a long  while  I leaned  there,  my  eyes  looking  into  theirs 
till  I seemed  to  read  their  soul.  It  was  the  spirit  of  the  land, 
looking  after  me  through  the  night ; and  its  spirit  entered  into 
mine.  Motionless,  I watched  them ; motionless,  they  answered 
me.  Time,  unheeded,  passed  away  ; and  still  their  deep-set  fire 
glowed  on  into  my  very  being.  It  was  getting  late.  I roused 
myself  from  my  reverie.  The  sea  struck  me  with  a chill ; but 
as  I turned  lingeringly  away,  the  eyes  still  followed  me  in  the 
distance,  and  bade  me  in  their  glow,  so  like  a human  glance, 
not  Farewell,  but  from  a foreign  land,  Good-night! 


APPENDIX. 


•rtt.. 


APPENDIX. 


A. 


ON  THE  POPULATION  OF  KOREA. 


ONEY  being  more  important  to  the  Korean  official  oligarchy  than 


men,  the  amount  of  taxable  property  in  the  kingdom,  represented 
principally  by  rice-fields,  is  much  more  accurately  known  than  is  the 
number  of  its  inhabitants.  No  census  of  the  population  is  ever  taken, 
the  number  of  houses  alone  being  counted.  The  estimate  formed  re- 
cently by  a Japanese  paper  is  probably  the  nearest  yet  made  to  the 
truth.  This  estimate  gave  Korea  12,000,000  inhabitants. 

As  for  Soul,  the  aggregatio)i  of  population,  including  both  the 
city  proper,  — that  is,  the  part  within  the  wall,  — and  the  outlying 
suburbs,  will  probably  not  exceed  in  all  250,000  souls.  The  amount 
of  ground  covered  is  about  ten  square  miles.  But  a city  of  the  far- 
East  extends  only  in  two  dimensions,  not  as  with  us  in  three.  Tokio, 
in  Ja])an,  with  about  1,200,000  inhabitants,  covers  eighty  square  miles. 

The  fabulously  large  estimated  pojmlations  of  Chinese  cities  — as, 
for  instance.  Canton  — will,  I think,  on  a trustworthy  census  be  found 
to  have  been  greatly  exaggerated. 


26 


402 


APPENDIX. 


B. 


ON  THE  NAME  OF  THE  LAND. 


IIE  name  the  Koreans  give  their  land  is  Choson.  Bj  way  of  fore- 


^ stalling  any  want  of  appreciation  on  the  part  of  others,  they  also 
call  it  Te  Chosdn,  — Te  signifying  “ great.”  This  is  at  once  its  oldest 
and  its  newest  name.  It  was  so  called  previous  to  the  tenth  century, 


in  1391.  In  the  interim  the  kingdom  was  called  Koryo,  whence  our 
name,  Korea. 

Tlie  designation  “ the  Korea  ” (which  one  sometimes  hears)  is 
sim])ly  a mistake  founded  upon  too  literal  a translation  of  the  French 
“ La  Corcc.”  The  expression  is  as  un-English  as  it  woidd  be  to  speak 
of  “ the  Germany  ” or  “ the  Russia.”  A kindred  error  is  found  in  the 
expression  “ the  Morea,”  which  should,  of  course,  be  simply  “ Morea.” 


and  the  old  name  was  revived  on  the  coming  in  of  the  present  dynasty 


INDEX. 


INDEX 


^CHIM  KOHUN,  209. 

Acting,  a representation,  370. 

Actors,  strolling,  191,  370. 

Adoption,  subject  of,  140. 

practise  in  Japan,  140. 
in  Korea,  141. 

Age,  appearance  of,  much  coveted,  177. 

how  reckoned,  384. 

Altaic  family  of  languages,  114. 

Amma,  Japanese,  225  note. 

America,  mention  of,  in  Korean  map,  16. 
Ancestors,  ennobling  of,  136. 

worship  of,  135. 

Appetite,  insatiable,  54. 

Arches,  round,  in  gateways,  267. 
Archipelago,  the  southwestern,  34. 
Architecture,  262  et  seq. 

Arehways.  See  Gateways. 

Art,  280,  285  et  seq. 

Artifices  to  frighten  evil  spirits,  195  et  seq. 
Aryan  speech,  113. 

Ashes,  the  Street  of,  238. 

Aston,  W.  G.,  Preface,  114. 

Atlas,  Korean,  15. 

Audience  Hall  in  Old  Palace,  100,  291. 
Audience  Hall  of  New  Palace,  158. 
Autumn,  31. 

Aztecs  in  Mexico,  24,  109. 

gADGES  worn  by  officials  at  night,  232. 

Bang,  or  chamber,  103. 
Banqueting-balls,  240,  273,  368. 


Banquets,  170,  240,  368. 

Beacons  of  Pusan,  398. 

BeUs,  great  bell  of  Soul,  97,  221,  226. 
of  night-watchman,  168. 
peculiar  tolling  of  far-Eastern,  365. 
Birds’  Rest.  See  Torii. 

Black  Tide,  the.  See  Kuro  Sbiwo. 
Blesser  of  Children  Spirit,  208. 

Blind  men,  231. 

Blue  Unicorn,  Glen  of  the,  239. 

Bonfires,  94. 

Booths,  78,  79. 

Boots,  329. 

Boys,  42,  166. 

mistaken  for  girls,  37. 

Braziers,  174,  277. 

Bridges  in  Soul,  222. 

Brushwood,  traffic  principally  in,  220. 
Buddhism,  banished  from  cities,  185. 
in  Japan,  263. 
in  Korea,  264. 
sects,  361. 
services,  365,  366. 
so-called  idols  of,  362. 
symbols  of,  361. 

Building,  laws  in  regard  to,  292. 

Bulls  of  burden,  49,  74,  220. 
Burial-places,  173,  174. 

Bustard,  great,  found  in  Korea,  8. 

QAIRNS,  94. 

Calendar,  Chinese,  256. 

CaUs,  162. 


406 


INDEX. 


Cauiue  latchkey,  234. 

Canton,  227. 

Capital  of  Korea.  See  SouL 
Cards,  visiting,  163. 

Carp,  283. 

Carpenter’s  rule,  the,  257. 

Casket  Gate,  154  note. 

Ceremonial  bourns,  101. 

Chairs,  367. 

Chamberlain,  Basil  Hall,  Preface,  114. 
Chamberlain,  Lord  High,  of  Korea,  156. 
Cham  Pan,  102. 

Cham  Wi,  102. 

Chang  Sun,  53. 

Chemulpo,  40,  43  ei  seq. 

meaning  of  name,  47. 
Cherry-trees,  27. 

China,  so-called  from  Tsin  dynasty,  73. 
Chinese  characters,  350. 

how  pronounced,  14. 
language,  114. 

Lions.  See  Korean  Dogs, 
people,  318. 

Chopsticks,  327. 

Clio  Ritsu  Ken,  258. 

Chosan,  Pusan  so-called,  21, 

Chosoii,  21,  209,  Appendix  B. 

Chronology,  systems  of,  378,  381. 

Classics,  Chinese,  study  of,  104. 

Climate,  22. 

Clothes-washiiig,  228,  310  et  seq. 

Coast,  the,  34. 

Cock’s-comb,  Mountain  of  the,  87,  373. 

Cold,  31. 

Colonel,  the,  55  et  seq.,  84. 

Color,  321. 

Compass,  383. 

needle  of,  considered  as  pointing  to 
the  south,  383. 

Compound,  81,  166. 

Concubines,  150. 

children  of,  150. 


Confucianism,  89,  185. 

Confucius,  132. 

Consulate,  Japanese,  at  Chemulpo,  44,  48,  55, 
Corea.  See  Korea. 

Costume  as  drapery,  320.  ■ 
of  king,  158. 
of  nobles,  154. 
of  people,  7,  316  et  seq. 
of  singing-girls,  245. 
of  soldiers,  322. 

Cotton,  324. 

Court  boots,  155,  157. 

costume,  154,  158,  161. 
presentation  at,  153. 

Courts,  81, 

in  New  Palace,  154  etseq. 

Cranes,  155,  157. 

Crocodiles,  8, 

Cro\Vn  Prince,  160. 

Cue,  Chinese,  318, 

Korean,  337. 

Curfew  law,  227  seq. 

means  of  evading  it,  232. 

Cycle,  Cliiuese,  377. 

how  formed,  379. 
of  Cathay,  377,  378. 

J)ANCERS,  248. 

Day,  the  lost,  3. 

Day’s  beginning.  See  Nihon. 

Decapitated  bodies,  300. 

Demon  worship,  193  et  seq. 

Devil  jails,  201,  202,  309. 

Devils,  floating  and  attaching,  201. 

Dinners.  See  Banquets. 

Dogs,  234. 

Doors,  273. 

Dragon,  158. 

Dreams,  136,  202. 

Dress.  See  Costume. 

Drums,  191,  369. 

Duck’s  Green,  River  of  the,  19. 


IXDEX. 


407 


^ARTH,  Houseliold  spirit  of,  20S. 

EfiBgies  on  the  roofs,  195. 

English  teacher  of  the  school,  165  et  seq. 
Ever-White  Mountain,  the,  18,  19,  210. 
Evil  spirits,  196-199,  201. 

Examinations,  literary,  101. 

degrees  of,  104. 
Expenditure,  laws  of,  270. 

Ji'ANS,  331. 

Fauna,  8. 

Fences,  absence  of,  51. 

Ferries,  74,  388. 

Fiddles,  191,  369. 

Fights,  305. 

Fisheries  in  summer,  179. 

in  winter,  38,  178. 

Fishermen,  178. 

Fisliing,  sport  of,  283. 

Flora,  9. 

Flower  names  of  singing-girls,  246. 
Flower-Stream  Temple,  the,  356  et  seq. 
Flowers,  28. 

Flute,  standard  of  measures,  251. 

Flutes,  191,  369. 

Food,  Japanese,  69,  70. 

Korean,  69,  70,  242. 

Foot-gear,  327. 

Foreign  Office,  the,  103,  164. 

compound  of  the,  166. 
members  of  the,  164. 
Fruit-stands,  221. 

Furniture,  81,  276. 

Fusau,  35,  37,  394. 

^AMES,  kite-flying,  216. 
of  Go,  205. 
of  pitchpenuy,  372. 
of  war,  358. 

Gate  of  corpses,  92. 


Gate  of  criminals,  92. 

Gateway  on  the  Cock’s-comb,  374. 

Gateways,  266,  308. 

of  the  Foreign  Office,  167. 
of  the  New  Palace,  154,  296. 
of  the  Old  Palace,  291. 
of  Soul,  76,  91,  308. 

Geisha,  150,  244,  245,  370. 

Geuchuan,  48.  See  Inchon. 

General,  ancient  Chinese,  196. 

coloi'ed  drawings  of, 
198. 

Geomaucer,  147. 

Ginseng,  6. 

Go,  game  of,  205. 

Go-board,  205  note. 

Government,  the,  100. 

Governor  of  the  Province  of  Kyong  Keui  To, 

170. 

Gowns  used  by  women  for  hats,  345. 
Grasscloth,  324,  325. 

Graves,  173. 

Great  Billow  Mountain,  16. 

JJ AIR-BURNINGS  on  New  Year’s  eve. 

200. 

Hair-dressing,  245,  306. 

Ha  La,  209. 

Han,  73. 

the  river,  45,  70,  72,  95,  174,  178. 
frozen  over,  74,  178. 
crossing  on  the  ice,  180. 
Handcuffs,  169. 

Hand  screens,  326. 

Han  Yang,  name  of  Soul,  89. 

Hap  Mun,  154  note. 

Hat  shop,  342. 

Hats,  184,  332  et  seq.,  351  et  seq. 

Headship  of  clan,  138  et  seq. 

relatiousliip  to,  139. 

Heat  within  the  tropics,  29. 


408 


INDEX. 


Histrionics,  191. 

Ho  Cliyo,  102. 

Ho  Hang  Ho  River.  See  Whang  Ho  Kiang. 
Home  Office,  103. 

Honey,  247. 

Hong  Kong,  30. 

Hong  Sal  Mun,  262. 

Hong  Yong  Sik,  156  et  seq.,  386,  393. 
Horary  signs,  380,  384. 

Hours,  383. 

names  of,  384. 

House,  my,  80. 

House  of  the  Sleeping  Waves,  174. 

Houses,  268. 

Hyong  Chyo,  102 


JCE,  178. 

Idols,  so-caUed  Buddhist,  362. 

Iki,  5. 

Impersonality  of  the  Korean  race.  111,  117, 120. 

in  actions,  125. 
in  affection,  130. 
in  business,  127. 
in  language,  121. 
in  pleasure,  130. 

Inchon,  20,  40,  47. 

meaning  of  name,  47. 

Inns,  absence  of,  61. 

Iris,  28. 

Islands  off  west  coast,  42. 

Isotherms,  25. 

JAPAN,  Sea  of,  19,  34 
Japanese,  the,  5. 

Japanese  cook,  83. 

curious  nnpunctuality  of,  377. 
invasion  of  Korea,  36,  183  et  seq. 
language,  II4,  121,  349. 
legation  in  Soul,  98. 
of  Pusan,  39. 


Japanese  soldiers,  98. 

treaty  with  Korea,  14. 
Jesuits  in  China,  12,  256. 

Jinrikisha,  56,  72,  125,  294. 

Jinsen,  meaning  of  name,  48. 

Junks,  blown  to  America,  34. 

Chinese,  46. 

Japanese,  46. 

Korean,  46. 

J^ANA,  Japanese,  350,  352. 

Kap,  381. 

Kasa,  351. 

Kasi,  334  et  seq. 

Kato,  184. 

Keshiki,  meaning  of,  51. 

Khan.  See  Subterranean  Oven. 

Kim,  the  family,  myth  about,  211. 
Kim,  188,  223,  318. 

Kim  Nak  Chip,  261. 

King  of  Korea,  158. 

divinity  of,  207,  211. 

Kite-fight,  216. 

Kite-flying,  216. 

Kites,  birds,  217. 
toys,  216. 

Koi,  fishing  for,  178. 

Kong  Chyo,  102. 

Koniehi,  184. 

Korea.  See  Appendix  A and  B. 

geograpliy  of,  12. 

Korean  Dogs,  289. 

embassy  to  Pekin,  35^. 
language,  114,  121. 
people,  appearance  of,  36,  57. 
race,  112. 

Koryo,  211,  212. 

Kun  Gan,  209. 

Kuro  Shiwo,  the,  33. 

Kuruma,  125  note. 

Kyong  Keui  To,  104,  170. 


INDEX. 


409 


J^AXD  of  the  God  Men,  6. 

Landscape  gardening,  280. 

Landscape  gardening,  Japanese,  297- 
Language,  121. 

Lanterns,  63,  228  et  seq. 
names  of,  63. 
of  ofBcials,  249. 
thief’s,  168. 

Latitudes,  term,  23. 

Leopards,  9. 

Light  telegraphy,  system  of,  94. 

Li  Hung  Cliang,  290. 

Literary  examinations,  104. 

Lotus,  284. 

Ponds,  281  et  seq. 

^MAGISTRATES.  See  OfBcials. 

Magistrates’  band  of  music,  62,  268. 
Manchuria,  tigers  in,  8. 

Maucbus,  103. 

Man-power  car.  See  Jiurikislia. 

Map  of  the  world,  Korean,  15. 

Maps  of  Korea,  14. 

Marco  Polo,  378. 

Maritime  matters,  45. 

Marriage  brokers,  146. 

ceremony  of,  147. 
relation  to  man,  148,  338. 
relation  to  woman,  148. 
system  of,  146. 

Mathematician,  a Korean,  252. 

Mathematics,  250  et  seq. 

Measurements  of  time,  382. 

Memorial  temple,  96. 

Menage,  83. 

Menagerie,  ideal,  of  beasts,  380. 

Mercator,  projection  of,  23. 

^Merchants,  164. 

Meridian,  one  hundred  and  eightieth,  1. 
Mexico,  civilization  of,  24,  109. 

Middle  Kingdom,  the,  86,  209,  382. 


j Milne,  A.,  34. 
j Min,  156. 

Ming  dynasty,  the,  89,  319. 

Mochi,  Korean  counterpart  of,  247. 

Modesty,  319. 

Monasteries,  186,  356,  361,  364. 

Mongols,  112. 

Monks,  368. 

Moons,  382. 

Morals,  134. 

Morning  Calm,  Land  of  the,  7. 

Mountains,  Japanese  method  of  measuring 
height  of,  18. 

Mourners,  326. 

Moui-uiug,  149,  325. 

hlouth.  See  Subterranean  Oven. 

Mukojima,  28. 

Midtiplicatiou,  method  of,  259. 

Muu.  See  Gateway. 

Murder,  303. 

Music,  177,  251,  369. 

Musicians,  177. 

Myths,  6,  209  et  seq. 

royal,  210  et  seq. 


NAGASAKI,  35. 

Names,  Korean,  139,  205. 
Names,  multiple,  of  Korean  rivers,  72. 
Nam  San,  93. 

Nankin,  86. 

New  Year’s  calls,  162,  164,  201. 
eve,  199,  233. 
presents,  346. 
Night-patrols,  230. 

Nihon,  origin  of  the  name,  5. 

Nobility,  Korean,  105. 

No  dances  of  Japan,  190. 

Northeast  gate,  359. 

North  Hill,  the,  88. 

Numbei’s,  symbols  of,  260. 


INDEX. 


410 

^.\K-TREE,  Lord  of  tlie,  209. 

Offices,  101. 

Officials,  59,  Gl,  179. 

how  appointed,  101. 
method  of  walking,  179. 
Oil-paper,  311. 

for  windows,  271. 

Oji,  28. 

Onmun,  352. 

Origin  of  the  day,  1. 

Oven,  subterranean,  65,  80,  271. 

pAGODA,  187  ef  seq. 

meaning  of  the,  189. 
Painting,  253. 

Paintings,  82. 

Palace,  New,  98,  151,  294. 
of  Summer,  293. 

Old,  98,  289. 

Palanquin  coolies,  50,  61. 

Palanquins,  49,  213. 

Panorama  of  Siiul,  97. 

Pan  So,  102. 

Pap,  391. 

Paper,  271,  314. 

Patriarclial  system.  111,  118,  131-140. 
Patrol,  niglit,  230. 

Pekin,  86. 

Pek  Tu  San,  210. 

Piety,  filial,  134,  138,  142. 

Pilgrims,  Japanese,  58. 

associations  of,  58. 
Pinching  the  feet,  110. 

Pine-trees,  287- 
Plum-tree,  the,  26. 

Poetry,  254. 

Temple  to,  211. 

Pok,  peculiar  dream  of,  136. 

Ponies,  56,  389. 

Population  of  Korea.  See  Appendix  A. 

of  Soul.  See  Appendix  A. 


Port  for  Soul,  44. 

Position  of  woman.  111,  118,  143. 

Pottery,  171. 

Priests,  Buddhist,  365. 

Prime  meridian,  the,  1-3. 

Property,  its  laws  and  distribntion,  138. 
Punishments,  302  et  seq. 

Purveyor  to  Tiger  Spirit,  208. 

Pusan,  20,  35  et  seq.,  184. 

origin  of  name,  38. 

Pusang,  324. 

Pyong  An  River,  329. 

Pyong  Cliyo,  102. 

QUELPART,  24,  41,  209. 

R .IINY  season,  28.  . 

Ranks,  101,  172. 

Re  Chyo,  102. 

Red  Arrow  Gate,  39,  99,  217,  263. 
Religion,  absence  of,  181,  182. 

Rice,  62,  70. 

Ri  Chyo,  102. 

Rip  Van  Winkle,  Korean,  204. 

Roads,  52. 

Rockwork,  285. 

Roman  Catholic  missionaries  to  China,  332. 
Roof,  law  against  mounting  upon,  187- 
Roofs,  277. 

Ryuk  Kap,  381. 

gAGHALIEN,  34. 

Saikio,  86. 

Sailors,  Japanese,  47- 
Korean,  47. 

Sails,  lacing  of,  46. 

Sake,  176. 

Sa  Kwan,  85,  200. 

Sanscrit  alphabet,  353. 


INDEX, 


411 


Sanscrit  writings,  368. 

Satow,  E.  M.,  Preface,  15. 

Saucers,  origin  of,  171. 

Scenery,  50. 

School-boys,  221. 

School  for  teaching  English,  165. 
Schools,  223. 

Screens,  372. 

Scrolls,  170,  379  note.  See  Tomoye. 
Semitic  speech,  113. 

Servants,  81,  172. 

Shanghai,  35. 

Sheep,  £31,  235. 

Shin  sect,  story  of,  363. 

Sliintoiniza,  great  theatre  of  Tokio,  190. 
Shoes,  328. 

Shops,  218. 

Sign  of  sul  shop,  236. 

Sign-posts,  52,  392. 

Signs,  the  ten,  379. 

the  twelve,  380. 

Silk,  321. 

Silkworm,  323. 

Singapore,  72. 

Singing-girls.  See  Geisha. 

Siiiicomania  in  Korea,  89. 

Sin  Nong,  387. 

Sinra,  211. 

Sleds,  32,  178. 

Sleeves  used  as  pockets,  165,  322. 
Sliding  screens,  271. 

Smoking,  218. 

Snow  in  Soul,  32. 

Sociology,  108. 

Socks,  328. 

Soldiers,  312. 

costume  of,  322. 

Song  of  tlie  Sphere,  258. 

Songs,  368. 

Son  Wang  Don,  202. 

Soul,  20,  78,  86,  213,  226,  388. 
by  day,  213  et  seq. 


Soul  by  night,  226  et  seq. 
origin  of  name,  86. 

South  America,  mentioned  in  Korean  Atlas, 
16. 

South  gate,  76. 

South  Mountain,  the,  88-91,  239. 

South  Set-Apart  Palace,  the,  99. 

Spears,  171. 

Spectacles,  much  affected,  57,  290. 

Sponge  cake  in  Japan,  217. 

Spirit,  Blesser  of  Children,  208. 

Household,  of  earth,  207. 

Purveyor  to  Tiger,  208. 

Spirits,  evil,  196  et  seq. 
good,  203. 
neutral,  201. 
of  longevity,  209. 

Spring,  28. 

Steamers,  393. 

Stole,  species  of,  321. 

Straits  Settlements,  the,  30. 

Streets  of  Soul,  78,  97,  211. 

Students,  59. 

Subterranean  oven,  65,  80,  271. 

Suburbs  of  Soul,  75,  172. 

Sul,  171,  175. 

Superstitious,  193. 

Syllabary,  Japanese.  See  Kaua. 

Korean,  353. 

^ 'j^’ABAKO  bon,  218. 

Taijo,  founder  of  present  dynasty,  88. 
Tan  Kuu,  209. 

Tartar  peoples,  112,  116. 

Teacher  of  the  foreign  school,  165  et  seq. 

ingenious  device 
of,  376. 

Tea-drinking,  161,  171,  369. 

Tea-houses  of  Fusan,  395. 

Temple,  the  Flower-Stream,  361. 

Te  Pek  San,  209. 


INDEX. 


412 

Te  Wang  Kun,  290. 

Theatres,  absence  of,  189. 

Thief’s  lanterns,  108. 

Thieves,  302  et  seq^. 

Tliousand  Cliaracter  Classic,  the,  224. 

Tides,  great  height  of,  41,  45,  179. 

Tigers,  8,  373. 

Time,  measurements  of,  376. 

Tobacco,  164. 

pouch,  323. 

Tokio,  19,  80,  227,  Appendix  A. 

Tomoye,  379. 

Torii,  263,  265. 

Tow-rope  of  pony,  389,  391. 

Travel,  native,  58. 

Treaty  ports,  the,  20. 

Tree-peony,  the,  28. 

Trees  in  the  Lotus  Ponds,  282. 

sacred,  42,  201. 

Tsushima,  5,  34,  37. 

Tu  Man  Kang,  19,  24. 

Tunic,  158,  321  et  seq. 

Turanian  speech,  113. 

IJ.MBRELLA,  334,  351,  352. 

Underground  heating,  05  et  seq.,  271. 
Uyeno,  28. 

YALLEY  of  Clothes,  307  et  seq. 

Visits,  162. 

Vladivostok,  24. 

Von  Mollendorff,  99,  376. 

ALL,  Great,  of  China,  89. 

Walls  of  palace,  307. 


Walls  of  Pusan,  39. 

of  Soul,  70,  90,  95,  308. 
Warming,  system  of  underground,  271. 
Watch-fires  of  the  South  Mountain,  93. 
Watchman,  night,  107  et  seq. 
Water-bearers,  220. 

Weeks,  383. 

Wells,  220. 

Weusau,  20. 

Whan  Kap,  381. 

Whang  Ho  Kiang,  41. 

Wheel,  71.  See  Kuruma. 

Wheels,  71. 

Wife,  150. 

Windows,  218. 

Winter,  31. 

Wisteria,  28. 

Woman,  143. 

appearance  of,  151. 
life  of,  145. 
marriage  of,  145. 
no  legal  standing,  151. 
no  social  standing,  144. 
Women,  62,  119,  312. 

AVoollen,  325 
AA’riting.  See  Painting. 

Y^XG  and  Yong,  379  note. 

Yang  Tse  Kiang,  41. 

Year,  Korean,  26,  382. 

Yellow  Sea,  the,  41. 

Yenghiz  Khan,  113. 

Yesso,  34. 

Yh  King,  224. 

Yokohama,  19,  35. 

Yoshitsune,  112,  113. 

Yu  Kil  Chun,  201  ?iote. 


University  Press  : John  Wilson  & Son,  Cambridge. 


DATE  DUE 


FfB  ' 

0 2000 

DEMCO  38-297 


DS902X91 
Choson,  the  land  of  the 


morning  calm;  a 
Princeton  Theological  Semlnary-Speer  Libr, 


1 1012  00042  9250 


